Africa - Day#12 (A Reflective Outline-6-14-17)

Journaling My Blog Entry While Sitting On The Red Dirt Of Africa

Wednesday, June 14^th, 2017

            Back home in the States it’s Flag Day.  I have traditionally communicated in some such way with my roommate from college on this day.  This year I wished him a “Happy Flag Day” before I left for Africa.  It can be a day of allegiance, remembrance, and reflection.  Today, very early in the morning when it was still dark, I was awoken by a hyena right at the entrance to our boma about a hundred feet away.  That was exhilarating when I thought about it, although I did drift back off to sleep.

            When I did get up and out of the tent, I went for an early morning run out to the tarmac again.  It’s a little over a 10K (6.2 miles) as I’ve noted before, that’s run up and over 4 different ridges.  It has become my personal time to think and try to soak everything in.  When I reach the road and turn around to look at the Black Hill, I have yet to not sob aloud from emotion.  I can be an emotional person, but not necessarily “on demand.”  It’s just that this experience moves me in such a way that it seems to force itself upon me.  I can’t hold it back.

The Black Hill From The Tarmac

            Today I ran fast, which made it really fun, but I made sure that I greeted those emerging from their bomas, as they progressed through their morning chores or were beginning to take their herds out to browse.  They seem to be getting used to this runner and look for me as I pass by.  I stopped and talked with one man, waved at others, and shook hands with the boy Joseph today as he was burning some brush and grass outside his boma area.

            As I run, I look at my outline; my shadow.  What does this outline say about the person it reflects?  I ran with a small herd of 12 impalas at one point today.  When they leapt over the thorny hedge of the property lines, they bounded almost twice their height.  I also saw 7 different dik-diks.  The first of these tiny little antelopes climbed up on a termite mound to see me better, the rest would quickly disappear into the brush as I approached and then ran on by.  What did they see in me?  It makes me think.

            I think about the Maasai men who have been around Kijani Farm; John, Moses, Lanku, Sayianka, Benson, Andrew (all brothers), Raphael (the brother’s uncle), and the old Mzee their father (pronounced “Moo-zay”).  John’s Maasai name is Kapei (pronounced “Kah-pay) and Moses is Muterian (pronounced “Moo-ter-e-an”).  Had I to do it over again, personally I think I would have called them their given name in their native language from the beginning.  I didn’t know what their names were until later when I specifically asked them what they were and how to spell them out, but John & Moses were the original names that they had told us when we first met, so I guess it’s ok.

            I took a picture of the old Mzee yesterday.  You should have seen the way he stood; squaring his shoulders, standing tall, and giving me a serious face.  If he isn’t the picture of pride, I don’t know what is; humble, friendly, confident pride.  He is a wise old sage to many people here in this area.  He enjoyed seeing his picture on my camera and both laughed and smiled afterwards when I showed it to him.

The Old Mzee

Moses Leaning On Me After A Run

            I think about how Moses likes to lean on me and rest his arm on my shoulder.  I think of the shepherd boys.  I think of the wives and children back in the bomas.  I think of the land around here and all it represents; originally long ago, later under British Rule, and since their freedom in the early 1960’s.  I think about what I have seen in their bomas and the huts in which they live.  I think about when they have asked about our journals.  John’s writing is very good; impeccable in fact.  I think he would enjoy writing, and said he would like a journal.  This one I use is almost filled, and I don’t have another.  He’s also asked about my shoes.  He would like them I know.

Women And Children In Front Of The House In The Boma

John Looking At Todd's Journals

Typical Sandals

            These are the things I wrestle with beyond building, or butchering the last of the roosters like I did today.  I could give them what I have, but where one receives, one is left out.  These items are just that anyways; things of material that whither and wear away.  And does this then develop a sense of dependency like the women I saw trying to sell me jewelry at the entrance to the National Park?  It rips your heart out and stomps on it.  This is not just a country “Over there.”  These are not just “Those people;” they are friends now with faces and names.

            As I run I have come to this; I give them what I can.  I give them honesty, truth, and respect.  I give them my time and patience.  I value them and listen to them; these people that live here, my friends.  It may not seem like much.  Perhaps someone would say there is a better way.  All I know is that what I can give them by hearing, watching, and smiling will last longer that the “stuff.”

Morning Devotion Time With Our Team

The Guys Liked Practicing With Kristin's Guitar Afterwards

            It’s kind of what I felt as a father today.  Todd led the devotion at breakfast and shared God’s human side.  He did a good job using some sections from a book, and verses from the Bible, to show how Jesus wasn’t just a man that could pull his “God Card” anytime He wanted to avoid really knowing what we as humans go through.  Jesus really felt pain and suffering, along with frustrations and anger.  He laughed and He joked.  What I felt as a Dad listening to my son’s lesson and humble wisdom was pride way beyond anything that he could give me as a material gift.  That has continued for me throughout the day as I have watched Todd take pictures, and videos, and interview people that are working here at Kijani Farm.  He used a nail gun yesterday and has cut boards, but by Brian giving him the freedom these next two days to do the things that he is gifted at and gets excited about, it has unleashed him.  He was nervous about it at first, and didn’t have a lot of confidence to break away from the work force on the house and do some work of a different kind, but we talked about it while I was cutting up the chickens.  I assured him that it was still a necessary part of our trip here and documenting the story is important.  Think of what war correspondents must feel when they are writing and taking pictures while bullets fly and people are dying.  This is nothing like that, but the point is made that telling the story is paramount.

Todd Checking His Field Notes On What He Wants To Capture

            Many times today I have lifted my arms and said “Thank You” to God.  The first was when I woke to the hyena and then when I was running with my thoughts and tears.  Later, it was while thanking God for the meat before killing and butchering the chickens for tonight’s meal.  I enjoyed talking to Andrew, who watched me butchering, and Paul Fay who helped.  I’ve enjoyed the conversations with my son and watching him.  I’ve enjoyed the relationship building with the Maasai men throughout the day.

Andrew Takes A picture Of Todd And Lanku

Butchering A Rooster With Paul And Andrew

            It’s hot, and from where I’ve been sitting the shade has moved.  I’ve now written and will go pull the chicken meat from the bones so we’re ready to add rice and the cheesy potato mix.  Todd and Kristin said they would help as the other members of the Team finish putting on the metal roofing.  They’ve been working hard out in the direct sun.  We’ll all be ready for a hearty meal around the campfire this evening.

Jake, Nyles, Noah, And Patty Putting On The Metal Roof Sheets

Gabe And Jeff Down Below

            These are the things I raise my arms for.  Like our country’s flag back home, these are the things I want to have an allegiance to, and remember and reflect on.  Thank you God for this picture and story I am a part of here on the flip side.

            See you along The Way…