Origami was never my forte

Nor was Simon Says for that matter...
Baking cookies? Now that I can do!

And why might this matter you may ask? Well since we last left you...at the Tea Hotel I believe... we have embarked on a couple of adventures that have brought us through Kisumu, homestaying in the unfinished cement and brick home of 68-year old mama Rose and then up to Kakamega where we have taken up residence in a care center for 48 orphaned children. I think we shall address some of our favourite moments in point form...

1. Making chapati with Rose. As we may have mentioned, chapati is one of our favourite foods, despite (or perhaps because) of the copious amounts of oil involved. Since Rose's lesson we have been privileged to partake in the chapati making process with Melvin (neighbour to the care center) and Florence (lady working at the care center). Though each has his or her own technique, the key seems to be...add more oil!

2. While staying with Rose we were invited to her sister's farm for a day. The farm is located on a lovely piece of property, has a number of fruit trees (mango, avocado, banana...), maize, beans, casava and a number of others I don't recall. After spending the morning chatting, taking tea, and touring we were called in for lunch. Now, when Kenyans gave guests for lunch they go all out and the table was covered with food dishes; rice, ugali, sukuma wiki (green), chicken, fish, beef, some other green. Now (side note, I have lost my vegetarianism for social occasions) I reached across to serve myself a piece of chicken, unfortunately, the piece that came up on my serving spoon happened to be the head. Delightful. Face might be a better word, because the entirety of this piece was overwhelmed by an open beak and a look of sheer terror as if this poor animal was frozen in fright in its final moments. Needless to say, I returned this to the pot and took another, more obscure piece.
I then reached for the same. The sauce was really tasty.

3. While sitting on the grass along the roadside outside the center (munching on groundnuts of course) we were approached by two young men who introduced themselves and while one then fell silent for the rest of the conversation, the other tried to get us to agree to take him as our Kenyan boyfriend. Unfortunately his English wasn't the best and we weren't quite in a sympathetic mood and so the exchange went something like this...
"So, I am...well, I am looking for a friend, I think you know what I mean?"
(Kylie and Sanch wide eyed and innocent) "No? What do you mean?
"Well, I am looking for a white man"
"Oh! Really? A white man? Are you sure? I guess if that's what you really want... you might have to keep looking..."
The conversation went on rather too long, I think we might have gotten the point across that he was mixing up his words by the end of it, but maybe not. Blessedly, it began to rain.
Another gem from the conversation:
"You don't look like Canadians, you have spots" (pointing to freckles/moles on our arms).
I've decided that, on similar occasions in the future, I'll claim to be a nun.

4. The kids are incredibly lovely, 10 year olds that wash their own clothes, that clean the entire center, that do crazy amounts of school and want to teach you Swahili when they get home.

5. We didn't have water at the center for a while. In fact the entire town, and the next town over were water deprived. No one is quite sure why but it is rumoured that the water company may not have paid their electricity bill. Go figure. What this situation meant was that water had to be fetched from the river. Fetching water is a task taken on by the girls and boys alike (though I'd say the girls have the monopoly) and involves walking not too far down a mud path and then down a mud hill (which turns into a mudslide with rain... mudmudmudmudmud), filling up a basin/jug/any container, placing it on your head, and walking back. Now, Sanch and I decided we needed to give this a try and so Maggie (one of the older girls) graciously agreed to take us (Or did Maggie decide we would go and we graciously agreed?) and procured two wide open basins for us to carry (the size of the opening on these was already getting me worried). So, we marched down to the river and as soon as we turned off onto the path the laughter started, now, if nothing else, traveling through Africa has taught me humility, it is impossible not to laugh at yourself when everyone else is nor can you help but laugh at yourself as girls half your size sway by with basins twice the size of yours filled with water on their heads. So we were met with laughter the entire way down and cries of "Wazungu, you're going to fall!". Somehow we managed to make it up the hill without falling; however, with the amount of water I lost I might as well have fallen. We eventually made it back to the center, exhausted, humbled, and with just enough water to wash off the mud we were covered with.
Ha! The second time I ventured down, I was given a narrow-necked jug and an old veggie oil container. Picked my way down the slope, filled 'em up, and made it back up... with a lot of sloshing and very muddy sandals (and a chorus of laughter from the women watching at the water's edge). And then one of the young girls offered to take the veggie oil container for me. And then, "Here. Take this basin. It is lighter than that jug." And finally, "Let me take that basin, you can carry this little flask." Humbling to arrive home with nought but a scant liter.

I'm sure there is a lot more but Sanch would like to write and it's not coming to me so perhaps I shall quickly describe the care center and be off...
The center, Friends of Kakamega Care Center, is associated with the Friends Church, a Quaker church located in Kakamega in Kenya. Because the government funds next to nothing it is incredibly rare to find any charitable program that is not associated with a church. Most of the 48 children staying at the center have been orphaned by HIV/AIDS and there are also a number of children who come for lunches on school days. The staff are lovely, the children are charming and we are enjoying being a little bit settled very much.

Yesterday (a Friday evening), the kids sat down to a couple hours of television - a Kenyan soap... and then WWE. Kylie and I were thoroughly disgusted, but they love it. Enraptured, cheering uproariously at every greasy take down. There was a 400+ pound wrestler who elicited the weightiest (pun intended) response.
The wrestling left me sour, but all was reconciled when two of the younger boys, Armstrong and Michael, reenacted. Kylie and I glanced over to see that Armstrong had picked Michael up and turned him upside-down so that the latter's bum was in close proximity to the former's face. Funny enough on it's own... but then Armstrong proceeded to beat on Michael... with his chin. Michael let out a pained wail with every attack.
Kylie and I laughed so hard we succumbed to a fit of coughing. (Odd that we've both contracted colds on the equator? Well, Kylie (weakling) contracted it, and because we eat peanut butter from the same utensil...)

We also really enjoy hearing from you guys too, even if we don't get a ton of internet time, we would more than love to hear how your summers are going and what's new in Vancouver and the other side of the world.

If any of the Floridians (FTA) are reading, let it be known that if America wins the Confederation's Cup (Heaven forbid), I will cry salty and bitter tears of woe.

Muchlove,
Kylie and Sancha.