Ashtara Area Fish Farms

Just got back from another day with Susan. We are sitting in the cyber cafe, so forgive the typos, etc.

We started the day waiting for a matatu. They do not leave until they are full, so we had about a 45 minute wait before they would leave. We went out past Bukura and got off to start walking down a small dirt road. Now we are really in a rural area. The scenery was spectacularly beautiful, there are no words, but we are taking many pictures.

We were met by bodabodas after walking for 10 or 15 minutes. What a sight we must have been -- 5 mizungus and three Kenyans in a parade of bodabodas through rural Kenya. Believe me, they are not used to visitors here. At our destination we were met with a VERY enthusiastic Welcome hug and much laughter by Tabatha and the women of the area.

Every two weeks the group of fish farmers get together to meet and help each other work their farms -- today we were extending one pond. After we had tea and margarine sandwiches, we went to the ponds. Contrary to all the tourist magazines advice of not going in fresh water, watching out for rural area, parasites, bugs, etc., we all took off our shoes, grabbed a shovel and waded in shin deep mud and water to help dig the pond. This is the first time I have felt useful since we arrived. It was a beautiful site, women, men, Cody, mizungus, Kenyans, all working side by side in the heat of the day covered in mud and sweat and smiles.

After working for about an hour (the group had been working all morning, so we are very aware of how small our contribution was), it was time for the meeting which was to be held in the home of Susan (a Kenyan, not our Susan). The same formality was followed with everyone introducing themselves, "My names are..., I greet you good afternoon, welcome!" The group wanted to honour "Mama Susan" and Hussain for all of their support with a song and dance. They placed sparkley garland, like we would place around a tacky Christmas Tree, over their head. They call her Mama Susan because she cares for them as a mother would care for a child.

The home was a mud building with cow dung floor -- they must use dung (it is dry of course) for the floors to stop the jiggers from coming through (jiggers are worms that burrough into your feet and cause swelling, sounds very painful). During the meeting we would hear a goat bleeting, cows mooing, cocks crowing. Cody couldn't help but smile. When it was our turn to introduce ourselves Cody said that he has never experienced anything like this at home. One of the commity members thanked us, the visitors, for witnessing what we are doing.

Another meal followed -- large plates of ugali (kind of a mashed maize that they roll around in their hand like playdough and then dip into sauce), chippati (sp?), kale and very crispy fried fish. We lounged under the trees in the shade and visited. The group gifted Susan with four hand made chairs which we had to bring back with us on the matatu.

Todays matatu had 19. Turns out it was the same vehicle as yesterday. We made it less than 10 minutes before we had a flat tire which they were able to fix on the side of the road. When we got to the main highway we saw a police check and had to lighten our load. Three of the passengers had to get out in order to pass the check. The driver gave them money for a bodaboda. We made it through the check and then pulled over a little ways down the road. Our friends, Hussein and Matano could not catch a bodaboda so walked to catch up to us. When they got in, the driver asked for the money he had given them for the bodaboda. I wonder if you really get how absurd this all is! A short while later, another flat tire. This time we separated -- Susan and some of the crew got a ride with her chairs in a pick up truck. Terry, Cody and I were able to catch three bodabodas to get here.

There is so much more. We chewed sugar cane on the walk back. Saw adorable babies and little kids that we just wanted to take home and give them a bath and some new clothes.

Terry wants me to be sure to mention just how uncomfortable he was in the back of the matatu.

Tonight is movie night at Sheywey, but we may have had all the adventure we can take for one day.

I saw this painted on the mudflap of a bodaboda this morning: Even the Rich Cry