Always ask first.

I went to visit my friend Florence on Saturday. She is one of the women who sells me vegetables and she came to the Bible study I led last term. She is a special woman who loves Jesus deeply. And she had been asking me for months to come and visit her. I really can’t make an off-campus visit while the boys are here because it takes almost all day. But it has been midterm and the boys were gone, so we planned it for Saturday since she would already be on campus selling vegetables.

I mentioned it to Grace the week before and she said, “Florence’s house? She lives far!” This made me a little nervous because far to Grace is very, very far to me. But I had no way of getting in touch with Florence before Saturday and I convinced myself that for her to walk here and sell vegetables it couldn’t be too, too far.

I wasn’t feeling 100% on Saturday, but knowing it was my only chance to visit her I decided I would be fine. When she arrived at 1:00 pm her first comment was, “You do not have a car.” I said that was true so she said we would have to ride matatus. I went back to the house and got some more money, but not a lot because I didn’t want to ride a matatu with much money on me. And the adventure began.

We went to the matatu staging point, which is near the hospital and climbed aboard the appropriate matatu. I was feeling pretty culturally adept since this was now my 5th matatu ride. And whom did I climb aboard next to but my dear friend Olive, a Kenyan who works for me in the library and my closest Kenyan friend after Grace. I thought things were looking up despite my trepidation. Well, we waited, as I knew we would, until the matatu was “full”. And we waited. And we waited. And we waited so long that even Olive was getting impatient! It was almost a full hour that we waited until we had 26 passengers in our Nissan van and we went to the top of the hill. Then we disembarked, crossed the main road and waited for the right matatu to stop. We climbed aboard and there were only about 18 of us! This was a short ride anyway, and we got off at Likoni, an area about 5 miles from Kijabe.

Then we re-crossed the main road and started down, down, down, down a steep, steep, steep path. Florence is probably about my age or a bit older, but you would have thought I was the senior by far based on how slowly I descended the path compared to her. And I had on well-made hiking shoes and she had on smooth soled, tennis shoes. The path eventually flattened out and we had a nice mile or so walk to her house with a steep, steep, steep ascent right at the end!

As we journeyed along I asked her how long she had been selling vegetables on the RVA campus. Her reply was between 28 & 30 years. When she started selling she didn’t live as far from the campus (only about an hour away), but for the past 21 years or so she has lived 2 matatu rides away!

Her home is very simple. A pole frame plastered with mud, a packed earth floor, and a tin roof. There are 3 rooms: a central living room and a bedroom off to each side. The kitchen is separate. But once again, the view is spectacular! Later she showed me where they are building a nice cement home with cement floors, but at her current income level they are probably several years away from completing it.

Her husband is much older than she is. He walks very slowly with a cane and takes a long time to sit or get up. He has only 3 front teeth and he cannot speak English, but his smile was so warm and welcoming. She has 4 children: Joel who is about 20, has been out of school and looking for work for 2 years, Dorcas who is about 18 and is out of school, Peter who is 14 and in 9th grade, and Ruth who is 11 and in 6th grade. They were warm and gracious hosts. We ate a stew of peas and carrots, irio (which is mashed potatoes with corn and pounded pumpkin leaves) and chapattis. Then we had chai. We prayed, ate, prayed, I gave them some gifts, took pictures and had to leave. I arrived at 3:00 pm and had to leave by 4:00 because I was walking home and needed to get there before dark.

Why was I walking home? Well, because I didn’t ask first! I had no idea it was going to be so far. If I had brought enough money I could have paid for matatu fare for me and one of her children to accompany me and then return fare for them, but I didn’t. And Kenyans are too polite to bring up these matters before hand. And they always walk almost everywhere so going home, since it was mostly down hill, wasn’t really that far! Coming to her home was almost all up and she said she never walked it anymore, but going to Kijabe was down and it wasn’t far.

So, at 4:00 I set off with Joel as my guide. He said it would take about an hour. I am now used to Kenyan’s optimistic time estimates for walking and added on another half hour. We had a nice time. I asked him lots of questions and he answered. He loved to talk about the Bible and I felt it was a good experience for him to have to express himself in English. But as we walked on I became aware of the looks people were giving us. I’m used to it, but I figured he wasn’t. So I asked him if people were wondering why he was walking with a mzungu woman. He laughed self-consciously and said yes.

I wanted to be able to tell him to go on home, but I had no idea where we were! So we walked on. Most comments, I gathered were just curiosity, but there were 2 incidents I could tell people were being rude. He tensed up and quickened the pace and didn’t respond. And once I heard one little child say something about “punda”, which means donkey in kiswahili. I assumed I was being insulted (and later after talking with Grace confirmed that fact). Fortunately by that point in our walk I was too tired to be upset by a child’s comment!

I thought surely we must be getting almost to Kijabe when he pointed out the house of someone he knew I knew. Unfortunately I also knew that person’s house was about an hour from Kijabe.  By this time I was asking the Lord to help me just get home before I got sick to my stomach. It wasn’t the food, I had been feeling iffy all day. So we trudged on. I tried to ask questions that would get Joel talking a long time so I could just grunt occasionally (a very Kenyan response) and walk on.

Finally, at 6:00 I knew where we were and could send Joel on the 2-hour trip back to his home. I’m sure he made it faster without me, but it was still a long, long way for him to go just so they could have me for a guest.

After Joel left, I slowed down considerably. I began to feel kindred spirit to the Israelites wandering in the desert. The whole trip I was hit with the realization that I had no other alternative. I couldn’t stop and say oh let’s just call someone to pick us up-there were no phones around. We did have 2 lorries pass us, and I would have even accepted a ride if they had offered, but they didn’t. So I walked on and on and on.

When I was almost to the RVA campus I realized the near gate was closed because it was after 6:00 and I would have to go out of my way to the main gate. Trudge trudge. I wanted to call Steve from the gate, but he had nothing to come pick me up in and I thought if I stopped I wouldn’t get going again! So I walked home and finally arrived around 6:30. And I didn’t get sick, but I did spend a good portion of the next day in bed!

I’m so glad I went to Florence’s house. I think they were blessed that I would come. And I was blessed and learned several things:

• An even deeper respect for how hard people work to provide for their families
• A deeper level of graciousness and hospitality than I have ever offered
• Always ask first!

Just another African adventure!

I did have a wonderful birthday complete with homemade cards form 11 sweet boys, many, many emails from friends and family, the ever present love and will of my heavenly Father. Thanks to all of you who made it an extra special birthday for me! Blessings on all of you.

Nancy Peifer