My Almost African Princess

Sightseeing of England was awesome and I have lots of pictures of that experience. I was going to write this entry on that experience with the events of the past 4 days, but my mind is just exploding because since Thursday at 7 am Turkana time, my world has literally been rocked.

 Looking back on the past three days I wouldn’t change a thing and right now I’m kind of missing that hard woven mat on the ground of that mud hut. I can only imagine what experience the BUSH is going to bring, so please pray for rain and my survival in the BUSH.

So once our group arrived in Nairobi, we “hurried” strategically through immigration and customs. Todd and I thought that we would be staying in Nairobi the whole day upon our arrival at 7 am, little did we know that that mindset was about to change.

We had heard rumors about Gene Morden, some that he was the man of men or an Africa version of Crocodile Dundee. So when we first saw him, he totally exceeded all those expectations and pictures of him we had seen in our mind. He was dressed heard to toe in green and tan full on Safari African wear, minus the hat. He looked bigger, tougher, and even meaner than the pictures we had conceived in our minds’ eyes. This description does not even do him justice.

So nonchalantly we go up to him thinking that we would be spending a relaxing day in Nairobi when he begins to grab Todd’s bag and says we have a plane to catch.  SO we hurry with our bags behind him to a manly rugged looking land cruiser with the works. Huge grill in the front, luggage racks on top and heavy duty army green seat covers on the inside. We then knew we were in for the real deal.

We then learn that we had to catch a small plane to Lodwar. As we our on our way to the smaller airport we meet Mike, who will be here on a mission trip for a month, and Abraham, Gene and Melba’s adopted Turkana son. We then arrive at the airport, not sure what to expect being completely off guard. We then precede to get on this tiny bi-plane and fly to Lodwar.

My arrival in Lodwar was…lets just say picture the worst paved road for about half a mile you’ve ever driven on plopped right in the middle of a desert. That was our landing strip. Literally, I had now arrived in the middle of nowhere. We then hopped in another decked out land cruiser and headed for the house. I could not believe where I was; I was like pinch me I’m seeing things. We then arrived at the Compound. Gene wasn’t sure what the plan would be for us on our first day. We started out by going into town for lunch, where I had my first experience with boiled goat, yumJ…minus the fact that you had to eat around the tiny chunks of bone they don’t care to take out for you. After eating we went back to the Compound and then received about an hour of language training. Simple phases like, good morning, my name is…, I am from America, and “what’s up.” Immediately following that hour we were instructed to pack a back for a few days. I did so then hopped in a car and went along for a drive.

We then were being sent to live with the nationals, well it didn’t actually hit me what was happening until I was standing outside a mud hut meeting the family I would be staying with for the next three days with my poorly packed bag, a jug of clean water, and a few phrases of Turkana. ”Hi” and “what’s up” were only going to get me so far. I was about to learn what it would take to survive in Turkana, Kenya 3 and a half hours after getting off the plane that morning.

I would be staying at John and Margret Ejore’s house. They spoke little to no Englsih and only knew simple commands. I was instructed by hand jestures to sits outside the house on a woven mat in the sand. Luckily after 20 minutes or so of sitting there the guy who had done our language teaching showed up. Sammy and I then sat outside the house on a woven mat. I was now the latest attraction in town, it's not every day to see a “muzungo” on the outskirts of Lodwar. I was now the minority. Little kids were staring. The shy ones would push the littler ones toward me and they would giggle…I don’t even know if I could explain it. I was smiling soo big; it was just soo fascinating.

I have many stories that were the highlights of the next few days. I have soo much to tell, but not enough space or time to put it all on this blog. Here is one that I know many of you will appreciate.

So Sammy and I are sitting there on the mat and all these Turkana children and mothers are coming up asking me questions about where I’m from and why I’m there, keep in mind Sammy is translating much of this for me, so it’s confusing and hard to understand what he and the people are saying. At this point of sitting there I now have a Turkana name “Emoru” meaning Mountain given to me by Margret. This one lady, who I later learn was drunk, starts asking me these same questions. 

She asks where I am from and I respond that I am from America.

Then she asks why I am here. Thinking of a clever answer, I say because I love God and love people.

She then asks if I would take all the children standing around to America. I say with another clever answer if I had money that I would gladly take the children to America.

She then asks if I am single (I think this convo is getting a little bit personal). And I respond, yes that I am.

She then instructs me to a young girl about 13 I think, assuming tradition at this point, that I need to take her as my wife if I am going to have a Turkana name and then take her to America. I am now at a loss for words completely caught off guard not sure how to respectfully say no that I cannot marry her and take her as my wife. As I am about to say no, she repeats the question now in a slightly louder yell, almost demanding. I recognize some of the same words, but still having no idea of what she is actually saying. Luckily Sammy and Margret were able to come to my rescue and talk her down, then shooing everyone away. I managed to then wave bye to my almost African Princess.