A Social Whirl ;-)

I thought it about time I brought you up-to-date with recent events here in the bustling metropolis that is Murang’a.

As you can imagine things are all go. On Saturday night, dressed in our best clothes we headed down town for the opening of a new contemporary art gallery and then on to the Opera, before dining at the new French brassiere that opened last week in the theatre district.

After dinner, having stopped to pick up a couple of ladies, we continued the evening of wine women and song at the Hotsy Totsy club where Birmingham Bertie and his 15 Baltimore Buddies are currently in residence. The last thing I remember was James drinking pink Champagne out of a ladies shoe. It’s quite the social whirl!

When Petula Clark penned “Down Town” back in the 60s, it was with undoubtedly with Murang’a in mind. There must be a plaque somewhere…

Murang’a!... where all the lights are bright,
Murang’a!... you’re gonna be alright,
Murang’a!... everything’s waiting for you!”

Ahem. Moving swiftly on let me run you through the last few days.

Sunday:

Following Saturday’s festival of the chapatti came Sunday, and as the school & the children are very religious, that means church. Well, actually it means the school hall with a sheet draped over a table; but it serves us as well as St. Peter’s or St. Paul’s.

The service starts at 09h00 and even if you are not religious or practicing, you are expected to go out of respect for the school and the children. It’s well worth it too to see the children singing and dancing. Normally by the time you arrive at 09h00 they are already in full song, and this Sunday was no exception, although this Sunday they seemed particularly exuberant … no doubt owing the fact that their exams had finished on Friday. Their contagious energy even got me tapping my foot.

Each class is requested to come to the front one or more times to perform a song or recite a poem. Then as a class or as an individual the floor is opened to whoever has a message to give or a testament. At some point during proceedings you can bet your bottom dollar that as a visitor, you will be called upon to sing/juggle/plate spin/balloon model/sword swallow. A month into my sojourn, I am by now completely tooled up with stories, poems and songs for every occasion: I am available for weddings, funerals, christenings, bahmitzvas. James had actually notified me prior to the service that I should say something about unity. And so when my name was called, I gave them Aesop’s bundle of sticks. They were hanging on every word! :-)

Once everyone has said their bit, the real business of the morning begins … the sermon. The subject of the day was your spirit, and moreover the question: “are you someone of a different spirit?”
The sermon was based on the story of Moses leading the Israelites to the Promised Land (Canaan). This I learned is to be found in the book of “Numbers” (chapter 13 & 14) and which as I also learned is one of the least read books of the Bible; not surprising really when you consider the name. I’m sure if they had called it “Football” or “Shopping” it would come out top every time.

Anyway the story goes something like this: As Moses and the Israelites are approaching the Promised Land (Canaan), the Lord tells Moses to send out men to spy out the lie of the land. So Moses picks 12 (including Joshua son of Nun & Caleb son of Jephun’neh) and instructs them to go up into the hill country for 40 days and see what the land is, and whether the people who dwell in it are strong or weak, whether their cities are camps or strongholds. Good old fashioned spying…none of the James Bond rubbish.

After 40 days they all return with reports and a penchant for vodka martinis. 10 tell of a land flowing with milk and honey yet the people who dwell in the land are of great statute and the cities fortified. Their report concludes by suggesting that they would have been better to die in Egypt than in this wilderness, and should therefore go back. Caleb and Joshua report the same facts but if God is on their side, they cannot lose.

Hearing the subversion of the 10, God flies off the handle (as was his habit in the Old Testament) and decrees that none of the 10 or any of their kin aged 20 years and over shall ever “see the land which I swore to give to their fathers; and none of those who despised me shall see it. But my servant Caleb and Joshua because they have a different spirit and have followed me fully, I will bring into the land into which they went, and their descendants shall possess it”. The others and their families are all destined to perish in the wilderness.

James then asked the question of the children:

- are you someone with a different spirit, or are you just any old Wanjiku, Wanjiru or Wairimu? (Translation: Tom, Dick or Harry...I loved that bit).

He continued:

- Matthew is a person of a different spirit, isn’t it?! He left his work and home to come here and help us.

I must admit I am a having trouble assuming the position of role model.

Over lunch James informed me that at 16h00 there was to be a football match: Muranga vs. Muringa (the difference being a vowel and about 10 minutes).

- Great, said I, nothing I like more on a Sunday afternoon than watching a game of football.

- No no no, chuckled James, you are playing!

Unable to fabricate a prior engagement, at 15h30 I slipped on my skin tight 1980s world cup shorts and a generous layer of factor 30, and by means of a warm up walked marginally quicker than normal down to the field.

Shattering once and for all the myth that only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun, we kicked off. Ok, I know 16h00 is not 12h00, but trust me; 16h00 is Kenya is hot for all concerned. We played for 80 minutes during which time yours truly ploughed the left channel with more bravado than bravura. But I am proud to say we won 2-0, however the opposition did seem more intent on kicking “Mûthûngû” (the white guy) then putting the ball past our keeper! Maybe I am picked merely as ruse to distract the opposition?

Late on Sunday as I nursed my bruises, we watched Slumdog Millionaire. It was a choice between that and Harvey Milk, which really isn’t any choice at all seeing as they have VERY strong views on homosexuality.

As I am now out of films this is my APB for back up!

. Monday

This past Monday we had a long standing arrangement to go and see the home of another local resident which we were told is in need of repair. That was an understatement.

James Macharia used to be a student here at St. Anna but he has now moved on to Kiambugi high school across the valley. He lives a short but punishing walk from school with is mother, 3 Brothers and Sister.

Once again, just when you thought it cannot get any worse, it gets worse. James’s Mother lives with her Daughter and the 2 youngest Brothers in a bare two room brick house. James’s place however is abject. It is SO bad that I had to step outside to gather myself. No-one should have to live like that. The goats he has for neighbours live in the same conditions, and it is not suitable for them.

James quite simply lives in a tin room of not much more than 2m², full of holes, dirt and cobwebs; you’d be forgiven for thinking it’s the cobwebs holding the place together now. When it rains, the whole room is soaked. James then astounded me further by revealing he shares the shack, the bed and sodden mattress with is Brother Wilson.

We did not speak a word on the way back to the school. It goes without saying that we are going to see what we can do for him.

At least Monday ended on a more positive note. Benson & I made the journey to Murang’a at the end of the day to buy everything on our shopping list to build a rabbit hutch.

2 B Contd…