There is no pretense about being James Herriot here, but with all of the creatures great and small running around us it sometimes feels like I should be writing a few animal tales. Two boys constantly getting into mischief only adds to the surreal zoo-like feeling. In the span of a week and a half we encountered ten different kinds of animals. Adding bees, termites, and way too many mosquitos to the list gives the impression that we live outdoors in some sort of animal habitat rather than an apartment in the city. The typical scenes of cows, sheep, goats, and dogs playing in the road has gone from initial excitement to mundane. While it is still cute to see a kid playing in the street it also provides another challenge for driving. I did see a man walking his goat on a leash the other day but usually the creatures huddle by the side of the road working up the courage to cross and see what’s on the other side. It’s all part of what we call normal.
A daily part of normal is a mother cat and her three kittens. These mangy creatures live somewhere in the bushes next to where I park our van. I have nothing against cats and actually enjoy the feline as a pet, but I would prefer they not walk all over our van with their little muddy paws. Or at least wait until the rainy season is finished. Evidence suggests that the kittens are using the windshield as a slip-and-slide and are thoroughly enjoying themselves. I know they are not just in migration since one of our neighbors, most likely a member of PETA, is feeding them. I wonder if the animal lover also participates in the nightly “fight club” that neighboring cats attend. I’m sure it’s the food that attracts them to the venue, but you never know, it could be purely for sport. Benjamin also enjoys the cats from a distance but mainly he is fascinated with playing with the “little rocks” that he finds strewn about by the messy little kitties. However, he’s more fond of playing in the flower planter he calls a sandbox. The cats call it their toilet.
Saw another camel the other day along the side of the road. I guess I still can’t get over my stereotypes of camels playing in the sand. There’s something about a camel with a lush green forest in the background that seems out-of-place in my mind. But if you think about it stereotypes are not very accurate sources of information anyway. In any event the camel and it’s “master” were having a tug of war next to the road. It appeared as if the master wanted the camel to mingle with the automobiles while the camel wanted to make a break for the trees. Stubbornness could be seen on both sides and persistence seemed to be their sole attribute. The boys and I couldn’t stop to see how the battle progressed but my money is on the camel. After all, camels spit.
Donkeys have long been a beast of burden in Kenya. Loaded with heavy bundles they dutifully plod alongside the road taking their goods to market. With man’s invention of the cart it means the donkey can carry four times as much. Add another donkey to the cart and the load seems to go up exponentially. I don’t see donkeys complain too much, but then again I haven’t heard then singing praises either. So a few days ago when I heard angry shouting amid giddy laughter I naturally took notice. The driver was whipping and screaming from on top of the cart and was doing all he could to stay standing. Picture cart surfing if you will, and yes, he hit the big wave. While the driver was plummeting towards certain injury three tethered donkeys ran by dragging their symbol of domestication….laughing. While the young middle donkey ran by braying something that sounded like “carpe’ diem”, I’m sure I heard the other two singing the praise song, “I’m Trading My Sorrows.” Score one for the donkeys.
My wife kissed a giraffe. Not sure how I feel about this yet.
Went to church a few Sundays ago to discover that there were some new attendees. A mother was bringing her child to Sunday School and another family was making its way to the main doors. I couldn’t help myself, I stared at them. They saw me standing there with my mouth open in disbelief and moved on towards the larger gathering of people. I had seen them before but it still surprised me to see them at church. I try not to judge but I was in disbelief. Although I am trying to dispel my stereotypes of Africa this morning at church seemed to fit everything I had imagined prior to stepping foot in Kenya. In fact even now I still can’t shake the feeling of the moment. My father and uncle had lived in West Africa for several years working with the Peace Corps and had told me stories as a child. However, I am now living in East Africa and am trying not to fall victim to their stories, untold numbers of books I have read, and my cultural stereotypes that my imagination uses to run wild. On that Sunday as I stood their with my mouth open it all fell apart. It was simply too much. I actually felt like I lived in that far off place called “Africa.” I stood there taking in Swahili praise songs full of rhythm and high in energy, thick vegetation in numerous shades of green dripping with moisture all around, bright colorful flowers in picture perfect bloom, air thick with the scent of fresh rain, and a family of monkeys jumping from tree to tree on their way to the main doors of church. They were no doubt Holy Monkeys in search of spiritual food. I’m sure the other mother at the gates of the Sunday School was not able to leave her offspring in one of the classes though. It’s kind of a shame really. Can you imagine the joy the children would have if they were able to play with a baby monkey at church? My boys already think and behave as if they are monkeys. What harm could one more monkey do at Sunday School?
There are birds that swoop down and steal food from students’ lunch trays at school. If you’ve seen the Alfred Hitchcock movie “The Birds” then you have a picture of what lunchtime is like at WNS… Student steps out from underneath protective grass hut like covering, black birds come swooping down, student runs away screaming… Perhaps this is where Hitchcock found his inspiration. These birds, Black Kites or Milvus Migrans to be specific, are part of the raptor family, are omnivorous, and large enough for even high school boys to be wary of. From their graceful method of food collection I think they fit their name well. Students, seemingly considering this part of their “normal”, have adapted quickly to the regular ambushes but still fall victim to the cunning bird and its quest for food. Personally I’d like to see what a Kite can do with a bowl of soup but it’s not on the menu any time soon. I see them around our apartment too. I haven’t worked out a complete game plan for what to do when the boys and I are eating lunch on the balcony and they come visiting, but so far the Kites around our apartment are polite and respectful, unlike the WNS Kites that bring fear and trembling.
Driving down a dusty road last week I saw a sheep jump out of the back of a moving pick-up truck. I think he was anxious about his future. His suicidal leap was most likely all about fear of the unknown. We have plenty of our own “unknowns” living here but when your “normal” consists of creatures and other oddities it really helps to see life simply as being full of variety. My own leap has been based upon faith rather than fear but there are times when I’m sure I can understand the sheep’s point of view. I also saw a van full of goats. The driver, he was human, had taken the seats out of the van and strapped them on top of the vehicle with a very large bag of charcoal. The dozen or so goats in the van were on their way somewhere, most likely unknown to them, but had faith in something. They were as calm as a van full of goats could be. I’m thinking they had placed their faith in the human, instead of The Divine, and were off to a large BBQ.
I could go on with little vignettes and tales of creatures that are part of our life in Kenya but it all leads me back to that old question of “What is normal?” This is part of our new normal. It isn’t something that will make headlines in the news but it is something that is shaping who we are. In fact Benjamin completely believes that he will see a lion any day now. Why not? He saw an elephant and has fed giraffes on several occasions. One of the students that attends WNS had a lion roam through their housing compound not long ago. Simba (the lion) wandered in from the wildlife reservation and caused a lock-down and probably quite a few hearts to beat a little quicker. Some people grow up thinking a concrete jungle is normal while others believe having space around their house is normal. Benjamin and Michael are growing up thinking all of this is normal. It will be interesting to see what stereotypes they will need to overcome.
nehrely there 