The good news is that we received 8 more boxes of toys.

The bad news is that they wanted $500 US Dollars or about 35,000 shillings. So we had to negotiate, and it got pretty fierce.

Customs: You will pay 35,000.
Me: These are donated toys given to orphans free of charge. And you want to charge me 35,000?
Customs: Yes.
Me: Send them back.
Customs: Send them back?
Me: If you aren’t going to clear them, send them back.
Customs: OK, 29,000.
Me: Send them back. And by the way, I am writing a letter to the newspaper about what you are doing. How do I spell your name?
Customs: What will you pay?
Me: 1000 shillings.
Customs: We will send them back!
Me: Do it.
Customs: 15,000.
Me: I will pay 1000.
Customs: Will you pay 2100?
Me: OK.

So I got them down from five hundred dollars to 30 dollars, but I had all the documentation from the hospital and school and orphanage before we talked. They were just trying to take advantage of me, and if orphans didn’t get toys, that was tough.

We needed a change after that, and we got a glorious one. We got to go to Masai Mara, which is the biggest game park in the world. It is over 800 square miles, and it is almost 7.5% of all of Kenya. It is what you hope for when you go to Africa; it is totally wild, and there are hundreds of different animals that roam free. You drive in your car, and if it breaks down, you sit in your car, because if you leave, you are a possible meal.

The roads are not paved, and they are rough, but it adds to the thrill. You can spend days in the park and not see much, but we saw leopards, cheetahs, lions, and the hippos. They were my favorites: there were dozens in a river, and they snort and belch and toot: it is sad to say that it reminded me of the dorm boys, but it was the first thing that I noticed.

At night, we camped nearby, and lions were within 20 yards of us. They made so much noise that it kept Nan awake. My gifting in life is to be able to fall asleep within moments of closing my eyes, and the first night was no exception. I made myself stay awake the second night, and it was a thrill to hear so many wild animals. We camp lots in Texas, but raccoons don’t offer the same exhilaration

The boys and I went out to deliver maize in the valley on Monday. What struck me this time is how much work is involved for everyone involved. First we hauled 100-pound bags of grain into the trucks. Then we drove for hours on non-existent roads. When I return to the states, I will laugh at these SUV’s that never leave the pavement!

When we get to our destination, we find dozens of people waiting, many of who walked miles to get there. Then we begin the long process of measuring grain for each family; in this culture, if someone gets more than someone else, it can start a riot. So we pour measured grain into their bags, and then they walk miles carrying heavy bags.

I have grown accustomed to the look of poverty. But there was something else this time: at one place we stopped, there was a momma with a baby, and the baby had a cry unlike any I had heard before. I usually gravitate to babies, and I asked if I could hold her. After a few minutes, I asked what was wrong with her.

And the momma told me: `She is just hungry.’

The sound of hunger is different than anything you ever heard before. It is a combination of desperation and fatigue. It is the saddest sound I have ever heard.

I hope I never hear it again and I hope I never forget what it sounds like.

YP

PS. Dorm boys!