Friday, December 01, 2006

09/26 – I Didn’t Need a Facial

I’ll be the first to admit I know nothing about changing baby boys. I learned a lot by trial and error. One of the trials was learning that baby boys like to pee as soon as you remove their diaper. I thought Moses and I were doing just fine until he gave me a facial with some unknown liquid south of the border. Needless to say, I washed my face, wiped my eyes and brushed my teeth ten-times this morning.

It seems like every child in this place has gotten sick over night. It’s a coordinated melody of coughing, crying and sneezing. You feel so small and useless in situations like this. There is nothing I can do to make them happy, and even less to make them well. I was ready to leave when my shift was over.

Right as we were about to leave a new baby was brought in. He didn’t have much of a background story. I would guess that he was about a month old. He seemed to be healthy, but very, very tiny. The orphanage named him gift. That he was.

The Massai Market runs every Tuesday and Saturday. It’s a large flea-market type event with souvenirs galore. The best way to get there was by matatu, so Tara and I got on and off we went.

The ride seemed to be fine until we pulled into a matatu stop and right into a huge fight that had just started. The driver was relentless and piled into two men in a heated debate, pushing them almost over and nearly onto the hood of the van. Tara and I were sitting in the front seats beside the driver totally stunned and scared. A second man came to the side door and began to pry it open. I was holding the door shut with all my might silently praying for muscles. Unfortunately the window was down and he was able to reach in and get a better hold.

It turns out that he was trying to get us out of the situation, across the road and onto another matatu. I thought he was going to punch me in the face and rob us. Good thing there are decent, honest people in the world; I guess I forgot that was possible during that moment.

We ended up at Kenya’s version of Dairy Queen and Pizza Hut. Needless to say, we were ready to sit down, laugh out load and stuff our faces with some good eats – shopping could come later.

We did end up shopping, piling our arms full of paintings, carvings, statues, scarves, table runners, et cetera. The prices are amazing and I got most of our Christmas shopping out of the way.

We got a new taxi driver on the way home because George was busy. Robert was nice too, but he was thoroughly convinced that he needed a second wife and Tara was it. Before he could seal the deal she made it home sans lifetime commitment. Only in Kenya.

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