Sunday Morning, nothing like Monday Morning the song

Sunday Morning, nothing like Monday Morning the song

March 20

Last night couldn’t sleep worth a darn. It was almost 2am when I finally was tired enough to go to sleep, but I’m not sure how long it took me to sleep. This morning I needed to get up early to go to another church with Alice. So here I sit in a skirt, yes a skirt and believe me it doesn’t happen often here, waiting for the car to come and get us. Apparently the church where we are going is an hour away. Not sure on that. Often Alice doesn’t communicate with me exactly what I need to know. Even when I ask. lol

So here we sit waiting on the guy with the car. Man I miss my truck.

We were finally on our way in, and I can’t believe I actually rode in one, a Matatu. Or more commonly known as a mini van turned into a taxi. On the way up to Kapnyarkwat. Now this village is populated by the Pokot people. They are a traditional tribe that has only recently began wearing clothes (thank you Lord!) They live in traditional tribal houses, and until recently their method of living was raiding cattle or what we call cattle rustling. I met the commander of the cattle raiders and we had lunch in his home. Litterally in his house. This particular band of people no longer raid cattle I was told, but I bet that they just might if the opportunity arose. I was told that the commander doesn’t participate in cattle raiding anymore because he became a Christian and he gave up his gun, an AK-47. 

I met another man, but he was younger than the commander. This guy’s name is William and he helps with the church that has begun in the village. William translates the Swahili to the native language of the Pokots.  It was very interesting having my English translated to Swahili and then translated to the language of the Pokot. I’m sure some of what I said was lost in translation. For me it was very confusing to speak and then have what I said translated twice. I kept getting ahead of the second translator and I had to really slow down and that’s when I get lost on what I am saying.

At the end of our time with the church William’s mother presented me with a gift. She gave me a beaded necklace that is commonly worn by women in the Pokot tribe and she gave me a gord that is used to ferment milk. Fermented milk is a very common drink to have in this part of Kenya. I’ve tried it and to me it’s yucky, and it smells worse.  It was suck a wonderful jester on this woman’s part I was stunned. I didn’t have any idea at all that this would happen, but I’m so glad it did.

Pastor Kibet and me

Yesterday was a good day. I went to town and after a bit I called Pastor Kibet and he came and met me for Lunch. We always have a good time. I can tell that man anything and he listens to me. It’s so refreshing. Here in Kenya I see a lot of hypocrisy in people and it’s driving me totally nuts. I know hypocrisy is alive and well in America, but here it’s so blatant it’s hard not to question Christianity in Africa. I think part of it comes from the culture and how deeply embedded the culture is here in East Africa. I’m not sure, I’m only speculating. It’s odd, but real.