May I have a conversation (Mark)
A while ago Bebeth wrote about the train ride from Kisumu to
Nairobi. That morning while the train lay on the tracks, Sam, Matt, and I
were walking along side the train.
We passed a man who said, "Sirs, I was wondering if I could have a
conversation with one of you?"
Not seeing very much threat we all turned and agreed. Seeing us all
stop to listen he said, "Actually I am not confident enough to speak in
front of so many, would it be ok to speak with one person?"
Sam agreed, and Matt and I walked just out of hearing range and
waited. When they were done, Sam came up and said, "Oh he wanted to tell me
about his situation and if there was anyway that I could help him with any
money."
So went an all too typical conversation of someone asking us for
money. It is unfortunate but when folks are friendly and outgoing with us, I
always wonder in the back of my head if they are going to ask me for
something.
Yesterday Frank (another volunteer) and I met Bebeth at the POSTA.
There is an askari there, called Henry that has been very friendly with us.
After Bebeth got our mail we attempted to make our way to the door. Lightly
tapping my arm, Henry asked me in a quiet voice if I would be available to
meet him later today so we could have a "conversation".
Aiee, I thought. He wants to ask me for money. What a
disappointment, another person being friendly because they want to ask for
money. Well, I thought, why not, at the most he'll ask me for money, I'll
say no and that will be that. What else was I going to do today. So I agreed
to meet him at five after the POSTA closed.
At 5 I walked back to the POSTA to meet Henry. In my head I was
rehearsing various ways to tell him that I didn't have any money. When I got
to the POSTA I didn't see Henry, so I thought I would wait for 15 minutes
before going back. Henry, who was closing the POSTA, called out that he
would be outside soon.
He comes out and greets me and says we should move to the side of
the entrance to talk. I'm thinking great here it comes. Instead he asks me
for contact information, my phone number and address where I live. My next
thought is "Great, now he wants to know where I live so he can rob me". Of
course since I was rehearsing in my head fifty ways to tell him I don't have
any money, I was caught off guard. Seeing my hesitation he continued on to
say that the reason he wants it is that he wants to keep in good
communication with me. Of course I'm thinking, "Uh why?"
He proceeds to tell me that he has "seen me to be" a friendly person
and that he wanted to welcome me to Bungoma. If we didn't have any plans for
Christmas we were invited to spend it with his family. We talked for almost
45 minutes. I found out that he is a pastor at a small Pentecostal church.
He told me he lived on his father's compound with several other brothers.
They all work in a 8 acre shamba growing sugar cane and corn. He told me,
"god willing" that he and his wife want to buy property somewhere else for
when his younger brothers get married it will "get very congested" at the
family compound. He told me how in the bible it says that when a man and
woman becomes married they become one entity, and that means that a man and
wife must communicate about decisions, not just the man dictate to the wife
and family. He talked about some Canadian friends that he had made a few
years back that worked at a NGO. How they had written several letters to
him, but had lost contact with them.
The one thing he did not talk about was money or his lack of money
or how much money could I give him or was there anyway for my organization
to help him with money. Money never came up. In a country where foreign aid
has created an epidemic of dependency, it was refreshing to meet someone who
was not well off and yet, for now at least, only wanted to talk and welcome
me to Kenya.
December 24th, 2006 at 9:20 am
Mark,
The reference to sugar cane growing is interesting. When we found out where you were going, I told your dad that I remember driving through that general geographic area with my family as a kid and I think there was lots of sugar cane farming around there. We stopped at a place where they were making something like molassas out of sugar cane, and we bought some candy that was basically just hardened molasses. It hit the spot.
Dave