We had the opportunity to go to another game park this week. Samburu is known for the river that runs through the park. I was completely dry. You could walk across it. Which is why there was a staff member whose job was to walk back and forth all night to make sure that none of the leopards came across to the people side. Whenever you think you have a bad job, remember, you could be walking back and forth with a flashlight making sure leopards don’t eat the guests.

I am not sure how to say the next thing except to say that when animals are out in the wild, you see things you don’t see at the Ft. Worth Zoo. Elephants and zebras leave nothing to the imagination. It leads to interesting discussions in the car with young children.

But a visit to a game park is a great opportunity to marvel at the wonder of creation, and I did marvel at it until our truck got stuck, and I got to go out and push.

Pushing a car is always fun, but pushing in a game park ten minutes after you saw a leopard leap from a tree is an all together different experience. After many minutes, we got the car out, and one of the rangers came by and hollered at us for being out of the car. When I asked him about the leopards, he said `They only kill at night! But the buffalo were starting to snort!’ As I looked up, I saw many buffalo looking at me with anger in their eyes, and recalled stories of buffaloes attacking Range Rovers and winning, and gladly got into the car and longed for a little less marvel.

Later in the week, we went to Nairobi for a few days. It was unsettling in many ways. We went bowling in a very modern 12 lane alley, complete with automatic scoring, the only one in Nairobi.. And the only people bowling were Indians and whites. We did not see an African bowling the whole time. It is time for the kids to start reminding them of life in the States, but I left there feeling, for the first time since I have been in Africa, ashamed of myself for what I had done.

Later we saw a movie, the first we have seen since we have been in Africa. Playing at the theater were The Matrix, You’ve Got Mail, and the one we saw, Toy Story 2. Before a movie is shown, there is a government newsreel that is so bad it is quite amusing. It consisted of the President watching the military march in several different arenas, each time to `the thrill of the spectators.’ Spin city is not an art form yet in Kenya.

On Sunday, we went with Grace to her church. We got to ride the legendary matatu’s, which is a minivan that is crammed to the gills with people. We were in a Nissan mini van, probably 15 years old. And we managed to get 18 people in it. I was in the front seat with Matthew on my lap, someone sitting over the gearshift and the driver. Nan and JT were somewhere in the back. Grace told us later that it was a very comfortable ride.

The church was metal sidings and cement floors with benches with no back. We got there at 10 and it lasted until 2. We were the only white people there, and the two kids in front of me were so fascinated by me that they turned around in their seats and looked at me the whole time. This did not help me enter into the sprit of worship, and I probably didn’t help matters by making faces at them to make them giggle, which led to lots of kids coming over so I would make a face at them, which I am sure the pastor truly appreciated.

Afterwards, we were invited to lunch in the back of the church with the pastor, who apologized that we would have to eat with our hands because the church could not afford knifes and forks. The boys were thrilled, but it was humbling and disconcerting for Nan and I.

We walked a mile back to get on the matatu, and then we realized that we had an easy ride before. We got on, and waited. Matatu’s don’t go until they are full, and full is a relative term. While we were waiting, there was an older man in front of us who was very ill, and he was going to the hospital, but that did not speed things up. We waited until they got 30 people on this minivan. Kids were on laps, and we put seven people to a bench. The last four people were pushed in the van, and when the screams of the passengers indicated that they were closing the door on people, the solution was to not close the side door, so four people grabbed on for dear life as we left.

Nan and I couldn’t tell if we smelled transmission fluid or break fluid, but after we went for a short time, we stopped and let two people off. Incredibly, four more got on and we got to our destination. As I got off, it struck me: this is transportation for most of the people of Kenya. That or walking.

I’ve complained about my commute in Dallas before, with air conditioning and a comfortable chair and a great sound system. Slap me if I ever complain about it again.

YP