Grace told our Swahili teacher that he should bring Nancy a present for how well she is doing in language studies. It seemed natural to ask her `Don’t you think he should bring ME a present also?’

At this point, something happened that was difficult to interpret culturally. Fortunately, I have been in Africa for a while and have developed an expertise to interpret what occurred next.

Grace started laughing as hard as I have ever seen anyone laugh. She went to another friend and told her what I had said, and they both laughed so much that I thought they might become ill. My interpretation is that my language skills are SO high that it would be impossible to find an appropriate gift, and the thought of searching for such a gift amused them greatly.

I can’t think of any other logical explanation.

Kijabe, where we live, is very hilly.

One of my best friends here, Greg, is a large 6’6 guy. He is one of those guys who is good at everything (computer guru, biology teacher, etc etc etc) and who is always calm and helpful.

He recently had surgery on both feet. He asked me to pick him up from the hospital. But it was another example of how Kenya is a bit different than the US.

He had been given a shot to deaden the pain, and it wasn’t enough, so they gave him another whole shot. This rendered him quite incoherent, and very groggy.

When his wife and I arrived at the hospital, he was laying in a bed in a room with 12 other patients, all waiting to be picked up to leave. He was still in his hospital gown, and we were told to go in the hallway so he could change. We managed to get him into the wheelchair and I gathered his clothes and went to the secluded hallway.

It was all Greg could do to stand up, and being fairly out of it, he dropped trou right in front of me. There was a point in my life when I thought I was a mooning magnet, but I did not expect it to occur in Africa. After a fairly lengthy struggle, we got his clothes on and he got back into the wheelchair.

The hospital is built on a hilly area, and so there were many ramps to go up. This was not a high quality wheelchair, and it was hard to push it. I went up the first ramp, got almost to the top, and we slid back down. I started running the second time, and his wife started pushing, and we made it up the first ramp.

By the time I saw the next ramp I started laughing. There was no way I was going to be able to get him up that ramp. I started running and we hit a bad section of the floor, and all I could think about was that poor Greg was going to have to crawl home, because he almost fell out of the chair. However, with the help of another guy, we made it to the door.

Doors and wheelchairs and guys with foot surgeries shouldn’t be funny, but I didn’t know if I could stop laughing as I tried to figure out how to open the door without using his injured feet to do it. At this point, I’m sure Greg felt he was being punished for something he had done previously and his punishment was me pushing him.

After a good bit of time, I got Greg into the car, and we drove to his house. It was then I realized that the adventure was just beginning. His wife had stayed behind to pay the bill (that can take hours at a Kenyan hospital), and they live on the highest point on the campus, and he was so drugged up that he fell asleep during the five-minute drive to his house.

I drove as close as I could to the house, but we would still have to walk up at least 15 stairs together. After I woke him up, we began; Greg a large 6’6 and me a rather meager 5’11. We got up two stairs with great effort and much leaning and then he said:

Greg: Do you think there is another way we could do this?
Me: What do you mean?
Greg: I’m not sure I want to go up any more steps.
Me: (increasingly desperate with Greg leaning on me) I’m not sure we have many options right now Greg.
Greg: I just think there might be a better way to do this.
Me: There isn’t!! We’ve got to move!! Go Greg Go!!

At this point, with Greg leaning on me and looking like he was going to fall asleep, I did not show myself a great leader of man. There was nothing funny about what was going on, but I started laughing. It seemed to wake Greg up. With much coaxing and straining, I got him to the house and his bed, where he slept for most of the day. He doesn’t remember how he got home.

I’ll never forget.

But I wonder what happened to all the other people waiting with no one with a car to help them get home. It was hard for us; I can’t imagine what they do.

Your pal

Steve Peifer