Chris Loehmer Kincaid's Blog, page 78

What Is Everyone Talking About?

After much debate, I decided to once again share this series of Christmas blog posts. I first wrote them in 2011, then reposted them in 2016. Every Sunday, for the next six weeks I will share the next post in the series. After maintaining this blog for nine years, I still think these are some of my favorites. Also, all of the pictures were taken on one of my recent trips to Kenya.   
 All the neighbors were filled with awe, and throughout the hill country of Judea people were talking about all these things. Everyone who heard this wondered about it, asking, “What then is this child going to be?” For the Lord’s hand was with him. Luke 1:65-66 New International Version
Visitor: Excuse me, what is everyone talking about?
Dog: Well, you knew that Zachariah and his wife Elizabeth had a baby, didn’t you?
Visitor: No, I didn’t. I’m new to town.
Dog: They are a really old couple. Nice though. They throw their scrapes out to me. Anyway, they are really old and never had any kids, and then all of a sudden she got pregnant.
Visitor: Really?
Dog: But here’s the really wild part. When Zachariah found out they were going to have a baby, he suddenly couldn’t talk at all.
Visitor: Why was that?
Dog: The people say that it is because he didn’t believe that God could do this. But here’s the rest of the story. Today, when he wrote down that he wanted to name the baby John, suddenly he could talk again. He said that it is because he obeyed God.
Visitor: How did he obey God?
Dog: He named the baby John. Nobody could figure out why. Zachariah said that is the name that God chose for the baby. And that the baby is going to be very special.
Visitor: How is he going to be special?
Dog: I don’t know.

Rabbit: I do.

Visitor: Well, hello, I didn’t see you there.
Rabbit: It all has to do with Elizabeth’s cousin. She is going to have a baby too. And they say that baby is going to be even more special than John. John was born to lead the way for Mary’s baby.
Visitor: How do you know that?
Rabbit: Why don’t you go visit Mary and find out.
Visitor: Maybe I will have to do that. Where can I find her?
Rabbit: She lives in Nazareth.
Visitor: Well, thank you both for all of your help. I will have to check this out.

Thanksgiving Present

     As you know, if you read Wednesday’s post, or live pretty much anywhere in the northern half of the US, we woke up to this the day before Thanksgiving.  Luckily, I had just turned off the water and was drying off after my shower, when the power went out. At first I thought Hubby was goofing with me and had reached in and flipped off the light switch. But it only took me a second to realize that the heavy snow on the power lines, along with the wind, had cut our electricity. Almost everyone living outside the city limits was without electricity all day. As I write this, many are still without.

 Hubby took me to work, as none of the side roads had been plowed. Which means he picked me up after work and I could get a nice picture of these two who have survived both the snow and the deer hunting season. So far.   I took a few pictures around the yard, but the light was waning, so most of them aren’t clear. Except this one, of the tree which actually broke off in a storm this past spring. Interesting that I got this last picture of it in this state.
 Around 8:30 Wednesday, while we were huddled under blankets, reading in the living room, thankfully with the generator running and giving us enough power for lights and an electric heater, we heard a crash and a bang. 
 Not sure if this will make it easier or harder to clean up. The problem is that I’m not sure if it will happen before the snow melts now. 
 The snow is pretty though. Even artistic.  
 As Hubby and I were lying awake in bed around three yesterday morning, we were pondering how we were going to cook Thanksgiving dinner for fourteen people with no electricity. We have a gas stove, so we could do some cooking, but we might have to skip the green bean casserole and the baked beans that we heat in crock pots. We were pretty sure that having that many people in the house would generate enough heat to keep everyone warm. But it was just the inconvenience of the whole thing.
 Hubby had just declared that if we didn’t have power by six am that we would start calling people and cancel Thanksgiving. Just like that, the lights came back on. Sent God up a huge thank You.
 Around the table, in a warm house with too much hot, freshly cooked food.  My brother had already left when we got around to a family photo. My dear friend Julie snapped it for me. Thank you, everyone, for showing up. Wish you would have eaten more! Leftovers!

Thanksgivings Past

     I’ve been planning this year’s Thanksgiving dinner, and I think the current headcount is 15. It depends on the weather though. Remember I live on the edge of the arctic circle, practically, so it’s anybody’s guess. Our power went out at six this morning and there's about six inches of snow on the ground with lots more falling. Might have some trees falling, too, before we're done.
 Anyway, let's think turkey day instead. Before we jump into this year’s fray, I thought I’d share the best of the pictures of Thanksgivings past, ever since Hubby and I acquired Thanksgiving as “our holiday”. 
2010. The first recorded Thanksgiving with all of us around the table in the living room (because who has a dining room big enough for this many people?).  2011. The table is set, but what I noticed about this picture is the football player on the TV. Man, that was eight years ago!  2012. Another very nice table set up, ready for food and guests.   2013. Battle of the pies, apparently.   2014. A shot of the prepping going on in the kitchen.   2015. I actually had a lot of good pictures from this year; it was hard to pick just one. But the winner was what looks like Ross pouring gravy in his beer.   2016. That year we had our highest headcount. 19. We had always been putting together two tables, but that year we had to make it three!  2018. The bird resting before his big debut. (Unfortunately, we missed 2017 because Hubby was working.) Watch for the 2019 pictures as soon as I have digested this year's meal.

Just a bit of catching up

     On Wednesday, I finished telling you about my trip to Kenya the end of September. It took me twenty-one installments, but I knocked it out and thought I might take today off. And then I laughed at myself and said, “yea, right.”
 Just a couple things that have come up since I’ve been home which I’ve been wanting to share.
 First, on the Monday after I returned from Africa, I had the day off, so Hubby and I traded in my cute little Dodge    For a Nissan. I am 96% happy with it, especially the heated seats. But I still do feel guilty that having just come back from once again witnessing the poverty of a third-world country, that I go and spend all this money on a new (used) car. Granted, it was about the third cheapest vehicle on the lot, but still, a lot of money.  The following week, on Friday, I got my long hair chomped off. Yes, I should have taken a before picture, or at least a picture of the pile of hair that was left on the floor. No, not long enough for locks of love, plus the ends still had coloring in it from when I didn’t want all that grey. 
 The day after the haircut, we went to Hubby’s nephew’s wedding. A lot of fun. 
 Two weeks after that we went to his aunt’s ninetieth birthday party. 

 Oh, and then there was Halloween in between.  Good heavens, no wonder I am tired all the time and have had a cold for two and a half weeks that I can’t quite seem to shake. With Thanksgiving on the horizon and Christmas just beyond, I don’t see much change in speed for another month or two.
 How about you? Starting to bite off more than you can chew and longing for a long vacation? But somehow, we always get through it, don’t we?

Sept 30 – Short and Sweet, Bittersweet

     Today’s post will be short and sweet – bittersweet, actually.  Monday morning, Sept 30, Denise and I packed our bags to head home. We took a quick trip to one of the malls to pick up a few last minute things. As we were on the highway riding there in an Uber, we were slowed down by a herd of cattle being herded through a tunnel. I’ll never stop being amazed by the things I see every time I’m in Kenya.
 We got back to the house, to wait for our ride to the airport. Took what we thought would be the last picture of our gracious hostess Marta.
 Just before we had to leave, Izzo returned home from his safari camp. We were concerned that we wouldn’t be able to say good-bye before we had to leave.
 On the drive to the airport, we were reminded again of the good, the bad  . . .
 And the ugly. But isn’t it the same thing every where in the world. No place is perfect and every place needs some work.
 Jomo Kenyatta International Airport has had a lot of improvements since I first started coming there in 2006, but still can use some work.
 The Zurich airport in Switzerland doesn’t need any improvements with views of the Alps on all sides. 
 But, anyway, on the journey home, through the crazy roads of Nairobi one last time, the Nairobi airport with its dark narrow corridors, the Zurich airport with its wide-open spaces and finally, O’Hare in Chicago. Through that long day way over 24 hours long, one thing became very clear to me.


 On all my other trips to Africa, I came home telling myself that this was my last trip, that I’m getting too old for these travels. This time, however, no matter how old I get, or how rough it will be to keep going some days, when I am tired and hungry and achy, I know that I’ll return to Kenya

Sept 28 - a sad day. Sept 29 - a little happier.

     Saturday morning, September 28, Denise and I were packed and ready to leave the safari camp by 6:30. No one had told us what time we were leaving, but because we are both a little bit OCD, we had our act together.  

 Just as our waiter called us over for breakfast, Dann started up the van. We ate a dozen or so bites of another amazing meal on our plates, even though we’d already eaten enough of the snacks we had in our room, not anticipating breakfast. We grabbed our bags and jumped back in the van.
 The ride back to the city was uneventful. As well as sad. It always is, leaving the wide-open spaces and serenity behind and returning to the noise, dust and chaos of Nairobi.
 Saying “good-bye” to Dann was the hardest part, the hardest part of the entire trip. Though he just turned twenty-two, he is wise beyond his years, reminding me that it wasn’t “good-bye”, it was really a “see you soon”.  We got back to the house by 12:30, unpacked, reorganized our stuff and visited with our host Marta.    Sunday was our last full day in Kenya! How very sad.
 We went with Marta and her two little boys to Karura Forest where we met up with one of her friends from Spain along with the friend’s husband and mother-in-law from Uganda. Yes, it was two Americans, two Spaniards and two Ugandans in Kenya that day, along with the two little Kenyan boys.
 Karura Forest is in a very upscale area of Nairobi, past the embassies and homes of the rich and famous. Actually, throughout our day at the park, I saw more people from other countries than from Kenya. Quite a few Asians and people speaking all kinds of languages other than Swahili.

 I wish I would have gotten pictures of Marta’s friend and her family, but it seemed a bit rude. Of course, a group picture would have been great, but I never thought of that.
 Instead, we spent the day visiting and getting to know each other, discussing everything from education to social wrongs to politics.
 Monkeys in the park. Always.

 Even a pond in the park.
 What little boy doesn't love a day in the park!
 Lastly, I was reminded that being a volunteer is so much more than the projects you work on. Perhaps the most important project is just getting to know the people you are working with.

Sept 25 thru 28 - Animal count

      Saturday, September 28, my friend Denise and I rode away from the Mara, the land of the Maasai, and back to Kikuyu town where we only had a few days remaining of our trip to Kenya. Before I share those last days, I thought I'd show you all the various animals we saw while out there. 
Lots of babies   Baby Goats . . .  And Baby Sheep   And Some Baby Friends  Some Winged Friends Too  This Guy Loved to Chatter  This Guy Liked Strutting Around  This is the Lilac-Breasted Roller, National Bird of Kenya  The Egyptian Goose   Doves  A Beauty with a Long Tail  And a Little Butterfly  Wildebeest  Gazelle  Wildebeest and Gazelle   A Few Newcomers that I've not seen on Previous Trips. The Tortoise    And, no, not Hare, but Mongoose (or Mongeese?)  And on the way back home. The Giraffe   And the Zebra What a beautiful country I've had the chance to visit six times! Can't wait for the next trip.

Sept 26 & 27 - Miscellaneous Projects

     Yikes! For a month and a half now, I’ve been writing blog posts about my trip to Kenya earlier this fall. I was thinking the other day that it was time to wrap up this series, yet here I am, realizing there will be at least three more. Sorry to bore you, but that’s life.  When my kids were in Kenya last January, they started work on this building. It’s been pretty much finished in the last few months. 



  Initially, it was going to be the first segment of the community center for the Maasai women, but then it was decided that it would make a better chicken coop.

 Nice, huh?  
 But then they realized that these critters love chicken.
 So there needs to be some more work done to make it mongoose-proof before moving in the chicks.  Here’s another project in the works. I’ve heard of this before.
 Save enough water bottles, fill them with sand, stack them, and they become walls for your building.

 So many ideas, so much that needs to be done. How does one decide which project to focus on? Which ones are going to be the most helpful, yet most economical to get up and running?

Sept 27 - The Sand River

     The last Maasai village we were going to visit would require the use of the van. This village is close to six miles from the safari camp where we were staying and across two river beds. The nearest river to this village was the Sand River, hence the name of this post.
 We’d been told the day before that we wouldn’t go if it was raining out, because it might be too difficult to cross the river beds in the rain. I wanted to remind them that the van got us out there in that torrential rain which had us stuck in the mud for an hour, but I had to let it go. These people knew what they were talking about and I wasn’t going to question it.
 Just like I didn’t question it when it was sunny all day for two days straight and it only seemed to cloud up around four in the afternoon, yet they told us we could only go out to this village around four. I would at least discover the answer to that question.
 But for now, you just need to know that Thursday, our first full day at the Mara, when those clouds to the west were so threatening, we were told we wouldn’t make the drive to the Sand River.
 The next afternoon, Denise and I sat ready by 3:50 pm, watching the rain clouds once again gather to the west, thinking this drive to the Sand River wasn’t going to happen.
 About 4:30, the van came screeching into the compound. “Let’s go,” Dann shouted, jumping out of the van and sliding the door open for us. It felt a little surreal. For some reason I was reminded of the last scene in the Christmas classic, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, where the toys on the Island of Misfit Toys had given up on ever leaving the island, when suddenly Santa shows up, with Rudolph leading the way, and those toys get to complete their mission in life by being loved by a child on Christmas morning. (Where do I get these analogies from??)
 Anyway, we leaped into the van with Dann and two strangers and started the drive to the village, as it began to sprinkle out.    The whole reason behind this trip was to follow the road which the children from this village walk every day to school and back. On a good day, the hike can take up to two hours, one way. When it has been raining, it takes much longer and is dangerous to cross the two rivers along the way.
 Also, this route in places runs nearly along the border to the Masa Mara Game Park. There is no fence to keep the animals in the park; they are free to wander wherever they want, which at times is right through where the school children are walking. It’s hard to imagine any parent sending their sons and daughters off to school every morning with all this going against them.
 Our host Izzo wanted us to see this area to help him decide if it is worthwhile to build a school closer to the village so that these kids are getting the education they need.
 When we got to the river, we soon discovered why we had to wait until this time of day. The rain had let up on our drive, but as we got out of the van and started walking into the river bed, it began to sprinkle again.
 We were met by women coming into the river from the other direction, each carrying a jerrycan or two. This was the reason to wait until after four in the afternoon. Twice a day, morning and late afternoon, the women hiked here to acquire water for their homes.
 The Sand River, as many bodies of water in the area, does not flow regularly with water. And the water that is there is usually stagnant.
 But the women have discovered something. Remember being at the beach as a child and digging in the sand a few feet from shore. Soon the ocean water would come up into your hole. Same principle here, and the water is now fresh and clean due to being filtered by the sand.
 Twice a day, the women dig holes in the mostly dried up river bed, wait for them to fill, then dip their cups into the fresh water, cupful by cupful, filling their jugs.

 We watched the women work for a while. I was willing to give it a try, but didn’t want to mess up their system and contaminant this precious water for them. They talked and laughed as they worked, mostly laughing at Denise and me, I believe. And the cold rain continued to fall.
 There is nothing, absolutely nothing, which will ever convince me that there is anything you do in your day to day chores which even comes close to this. This is why I keep going back to Africa. If there is just one tiny little thing, I can do which can make their lives easier, I want to find out what it is and do it for them.

Sept 27 - the Maasai people

     The Maasai people had been pastoralists and wanderers for centuries, following their great herds of cattle throughout eastern Africa. When the British began colonizing Kenya in the early nineteen-hundreds, many of the Maasai were forced to give up their lands. As safari hunts gained in popularity, the land of the Maasai shrunk further. Then with the advent of game parks, the fate of the Maasai seemed to be sealed – the thousands of pasturelands which used to be free for their use had been all but taken away.       With their great herds now a fracture of the size, they had to resort to other ways to sustain their families. One such way was to take advantage of the very source of their troubles – tourists.
 The women had long been known to create beaded jewelry for themselves and their families. It didn’t take them long to begin pressuring sightseers heading out on safari to buy a few items.  As the safari vans stop at the gate to go into the game park, the passengers are easy prey for the budding entrepreneurs knocking on the van windows and holding up their intricately made wares. Having been a tourist on the receiving end, I didn’t enjoy this type of shopping. My question for the women was what they thought of it.
 In the afternoon of our second day out at the Mara, our Maasai guide Dann, took Denise and I to the village which lies closest to the Oloolaimutia Gate. The women who live there seem to stalk the gate waiting for their next victim.  How did they like doing that? Were they making any money that way? Would they be willing to try something else?
 The resounding response was that they did not enjoy this at all and they did not feel it was effective. They just knew of no other way to reach their customers.
  When we told them that our friend Izzo was trying to build a gift shop on his land just across the road, they smiled and nodded their heads. Dann did not have to interrupt at that point – the women were in.
 And then, they told us to wait a moment, as they had a gift for us. Note our necklaces.       Everywhere I’ve gone during my six trips to Kenya, all of the people I have met have been kind, gracious, and understanding of this American woman who they must see as a little bit crazy. All of the children steal my heart. But it is the hardworking Maasai women who live in my heart.