Being Taira..........Being Wet Being Muddy

The long rains have finally come to Kenya. This is good news if you are a farmer as this is the time to plant; and these rains are already a month late. This is not such a good thing if you live anywhere in Ngong! There is very little pavement here and no sidewalks at all! The slum and the school are at a low spot in Ngong......so needless to say it is like drainage pool where all water flows down the formerly dusty road (now mud slide) and into the slum. There is sort of this little berm built around the slum but the rains come down from the skies like water being poured from a bucket, so this just serves to hold the water in place. The walk from one class to the other is a river of mud and garbage. There are some big rocks placed along this pathway and they would be useful as stepping stones if it weren't for the fact that they are all pointed sides up and are covered in sticky red mud; making them more dangerous to walk on then the muddy path itself.

The baby class, as it is called, was dry for the first few days but then the mother of all rains happened. The man who sold us the water tank, Testimony (yes that is really is name!) of Testimony Hardware, said he had never seen such a rain and he was born and raised here. This rain was so strong that it washed garbage and debris to these low lying spots.......a dead donkey lies in the field that we walk through to Grace's house. Now it is a slough of red mud and garbage. Needless to say the baby class was flooded by this rain and like the field all the sewage has ended up here. Yet much to the dismay of myself and my partner we found the kids clomping around in this mess, their shoes (if they have them) heavy, caked with clumps of mud. Two young girls were kneeling in the muck as they copied their lessons from the board. I am having a hard time understanding why they let the kids be taught in this class as the older kids have a paved room which could serve the smaller ones as well during this rainy time. Rachel and I spoke at length with Moshila about this and he was very agreeable about our concerns even telling us that it is illegal to have children in such a place but his mother has the final say on all matters and she was not there on that day. He would not do anything unless his mother approves.....a very Kenyan cultural thing of respect. So we have set up an appointment to speak with her through Moshila. She is not an educated women, and is very stubborn if another Kenyan tells her she has to do something but apparently she has been known to comply with the muzungus' as she thinks we are very smart and know about such things......go figure!

I don't complain now about the rain that constantly knocks out the power, or the fact that my laundry won't dry, or that my mud caked shoes are soaked through..........somehow it just seems unimportant and even childish!