IS GOOD!

How do you celebrate your bride’s birthday in Africa? Even in Africa, there is one tradition that we knew we didn’t want to deviate from: the annual birthday cheesecake. I only venture to cook once a year, and so the pressure is always on. Will this cheesecake slope to the right? Will it somehow be crunchy like the famous 1990 model?

This year had an additional element: Grace was in the kitchen watching. Kenyan men, at least in the Kukula tribe, do not cook, so she was amazed and amused that I was attempting to bake. And Grace hates cheese; you would too if Kenyan cheese was the only cheese you had eaten. The boys delight in trying to extol the delights of cheese to her.

It came out fine, by the standard of very measured expectations. The great victory that Grace agreed to eat a piece, while first inquiring `Which is the part with cheese?’ She took a very small bite, and then exclaimed with almost total shock, as only Grace can: `Is Good!’ I don’t know if it was my cooking or the cheese that surprised her the most, but I take what I can get.

Celebrating with nine dorm boys is also interesting. They all made her cards, and asked her to reveal her age. When she told them, they exclaimed, in loud unison, `43?’ I am sure she will not soon forget.

On Friday, we went with some good friends who share a birthday to the Carnivore, a popular restaurant which boasts of serving different game meat. You pay one price, and they keep bringing meat to the table until you raise the flag on the table indicating that you have surrendered. JT was determined to eat as much as our friend’s 17-year-old 6-4 and growing son, and while he did not accomplish that goal, he certainly made him nervous. And Matthew kept pace, which gives me fear of future food bills, as these guys get older.

Among the different meat offered that evening was ostrich, zebra and crocodile. And they were all good, although Kenya needs a little help with its barbeque sauce. But the finale was amazing: you all have heard waiters sing Happy Birthday in a restaurant, but with the addition of African drums, they gave Happy Birthday a beat it has never achieved in the states.

We had the chance to go to our last game park while we are in Africa. We went to Hell’s Gate, which is only an hour from here. The wonder of it is that you can climb, and the enclosed picture shows JT climbing much higher than his mother wished he would. In most game parks, you never leave the car, but this park does not have too many dangerous animals, so we were able to get out and walk, which made it the game park of choice for our guys: they would rather be walking than riding. JT walked to the gate at the end, and the glow on his face when we caught up to him in the car was something that every parent loves to see in their child: he finds a part of himself when he is in the wild.

As we left the park, we ran into two Texas A&M students, who are here for the summer working with street kids. They talked real Texan, and Nan and I walked away remarking how great it sounded to hear real Texans talk.

If you never have been away from home for a year, you might be surprised how happy an accent can make you.

YP

PS. Look carefully; that blue speck is JT!