Bee Suits and Magnificent Beasts

The last leg of my journey took us to the Maasai Mara. As always, my dear friend Issac was in change of the safari magic. I made a little stop off in Narok, the last city before it becomes nothing but the great and wild game reserve. His lovely wife, Leah, cooked for us. Oh. My. Goodness. She can do wonders with goat meat.

(My friend Isaac and his doll baby girl, Tatiana).

My last stop on the way out of the park was to the village of my good friend, John. John got into beekeeping several years ago and I have been visiting him every since to see how his honey-raising efforts are going. He currently has two Kenyan top bar hives that seem to be thriving. In Kenya it is neither a possibility or a necessity to purchase bees, the way we do in the states. Bees are much too plentiful (and scary) for anyone to pay for them. John told me when he put out his new hive a few months ago, it was colonized with wild bees within 24 hours. Crazy :). Even crazier still, was the fact that John harvested his honey without a bee suit. He said he tightly wraps himself in a shuka (the red Masaai blankets) and does it as fast as he can. For those of who have experienced the wrath of the Africanized bee, you are also probably wondering how he is still alive.

Notice John had to hang his hives because elephants have a way of stomping anything close to the ground that happens to be under a tree that they would like to eat from :). A beekeeping challenge that is quite unique to the Maasai villages.....
Before I left, I received a very generous donation of three fantastic, full-body bee suits from Bailey Bee Supply in Hillsborough, NC. I had already given one to Thomas, and now got to give John the other two. Needless to say he was delighted. Thank you, thank you, thank you David Bailey!

I were soon surrounded by a group of curious Masaai warriors who wanted to see the intricate functions of the many zippers the suit contained :). From the bottomless Adidas bag of goodies I also presented him with 2 pairs of gum boots (rubber boots) and 2 pairs of the thickest leather gloves I could find. I advised him to sew the gloves to the sleeves of the suit since those wiley little buggers have discovered the only way to breach the fortress of these suit is via the wrinkle-crevasses the gloves make. He understood all too well :)

John gave me an educational tour of their new village, and showed me all his other projects, that include raising goats, planting a tree nursery, and helping construct the new village. He explained how the Maasai people are historically nomadic people, but that has all changed since their children started attending stationary schools. The traditional Maasai houses, made of timbers and mud/cow dung, typically last about 10 yrs, which is what used to prompt them to move along. Now that they have been in this location for about 10 yrs it was time to start building new houses. Instead of moving far away and essentially emptying out the entire school, they are relocating the village about 50 yards away. Very clever. In the pic below I am learning about house construction (done entirely by the women). Who knew there were so many uses for cow dung ?!

I realized the blue stuff in the pic above are strips of mosquito nets. Hopefully they were old, worn out ones. Not much goes to waste here :)
Below are just a few of the amazing moments from my time in Maasai land.

Yup.....they get pretty close......

I think my favorite part of seeing these breath-taking beasts in the wild is getting to see their fierce, beautiful eyes. Still gives me scared-thrilled chills if they look right at me:)

I swear, as long as I live, I will never get tired of seeing these magnificent animals in this amazing land.....
Until next time,
Jessie

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Egg dishes and epic moments

I have a special fondness for epic movies that highlight the struggle for goodness, and the eventual triumph in the end, even if it is bittersweet. There is always a scene somewhere near the end that involves the hero, often emotionally or phyically wounded, walking away from their battle and triumph, with exultant music crescendoing behind them as there is some sort of explosion of glory. Take a minute......I know you are picturing your favorite lord of the rings or Harry potter moment. Okay-now bring it back. I've always wondered why real life rarely yields such moments......until now. I may have had my first one.
My last night in Maseno, I was feeling pretty snarky as a sinus infection was fighting to take control of my head. I really just wanted to go to bed early. But I had spent the day decorating the house, since it was going to be the kids first night in their new home. I went down to my house for a quick shower and power nap-neither of which made me feel better. Jacky was making their first dinner up at the house though, so I dragged myself back up the hill. This was the first time Jacky had used her gas cooker, and she made a lovely meal of ugali, Scumawiki, and some sort of egg dish. It was new to me. Also new was the feeling of great peaceful calm that washed over me like warm water as I sat in that clean, safe home, full of the children who have occupied my both my head and my heart for the last few years. I will always worry over them, but it will never be for lack of food, shelter, safely, and most importantly, love, ever again. The last few weeks seems to have transformed these kids. I guess I never fully understood the weight even such small children can carry when they don't know who loves them, and who will feed them and protect them from day to day. I saw it most noticeable in Naomy, who has changed from a sad, haunting child into bubbly, joyful little girl. The sound of her tinkling-bell-baby laughter is quite possibly the most beautiful sound I have ever heard, and it has been known to stop me many a time outside their room-just to listen.......and count myself so ridiculously blessed.
After dinner we sat all crammed into the bottom bunks of the boys room and listened to Eddah (13 yrs) reading out loud from their new school books. Naomy, Arnold, and Brian swiftly fell asleep in a little pile of bare feet and snoring after spending a good hour pretending to be ungas (puppies), licking my hands and crawling all over my feet. No matter where you are in the world, reading out loud is still the fastest way to put the wee ones to sleep, as evidenced by Daniel, who fell asleep in the gas cooker box he was playing in :). Presh.
I finally kissed goodnight the 2 that were still awake and handed the key over to Jacky. Had Hollywood been involved, my epic, monumental music would have started to play, and life would have slowed down for just a moment as we walked away from that house that was lit up like a beacon in the dark night. Although I am no Harry or Frodo, as I tiptoed down that little dark path between the cornfields of our houses, I was delightfully aware that this will always be one of the sweetest and most beautiful moments of my life. And it was so completely and utterly worth all the struggle and heartache it took to get here. I would do it all over again for just one night like tonight.

The kids playing outside.

Just a little rough housing.........

First day at Wonderland Academy.

The path to school.

Me, Jacky, and our darlings: Eddah (13), Vinicent (12), Brian (7), Arnold (6), Daniel (9), and Naomy (6).

Eddah and I walking to the market.

Vinicent did some painting for me so he could make a little money to buy a few rabbits, which he would like to start raising. Thankfully that is latex paint all over his face............

Jessie

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Apiaries and Bee-attacks

You know those killer heels that you love but they absolutely tear your feet up? If you wear them infrequently enough, you will surely put them on again with that it-really-wasnt-that-painful-last-time mindset........and as soon as you are far enough away from your closet to turn back......you are suddenly-and painfully-aware of why you swore to never wear them again.

Well, so it went with my experience with the infamous Afrian killer bees. I have been away long enough to forget your merciless ferocity.......but you did not let me forget for long.

(Notice the ignorant bliss of confidence before disaster strikes.......)

I went out with my dear friend, Thomas, to check on his bees, and possibly try to harvest. He insisted we do it at night, as it was just too dangerous to do it in the daytime (you might think that would have raised my level of alarm, but alas-it did not). We got out to his apiary at dusk. After getting the smoker lit, we wrestled into our full body bee suits, which always make me feel like an astronaut, and usually elicit my imitation of slow-motion moon running :) The bee suits were generously donated my Bailey's Bee Supply in Hillsborough, NC. The owner, David Bailey, has been a great source of helpful advice, both for my sweet American bees, and the fiesty demon bees of this land. David-if you are reading this, I cannot fully express my gratitude for having such a well-made suit between my skin and those little beasts.

We inspected the apiary-Thomas has 10 hives that are in pretty good shape. We walked around and looked at the condition of the hives, all the while the bees were quiet and calm-appearing......just biding their time. We approached the hive that should have been ready to harvest. Thomas lifted the lid and smoked them. There was a little bit of comb built on the lid, so he didn't remove it all the way to we could scrape the comb off......and the next thing I know the bees were all over us like flies on stink.

(Inspecting the apiary.......)

( 10 seconds after lifting the lid......)

Thomas said they were a little too aggressive at the moment and we shouldn't harvest in case they wanted to attack us. I hate to be contrary Thomas......BUT I THINK WE ARE ALREADY THERE. 

 I had on thick leather elbow-high gloves, and the bees couldn't sting through it.....but they were certainly trying. When a bee is trying to sting you, they do a little vibration thing with their abdomen that feels like a little buzz. My gloves were so covered with bees trying to sting me that it felt like someone was holding a tuning fork on my wrist. I repeated the phrase my dad taught me in my head, "I trust my suit......I trust my suit......I trust my suit......." That was until the bees found a little fold that buckled around the wrist because the gloves were so thick, and they launched a full blown invasion. It was then I lost all fondness for them. Instead of trying to somewhat gently brush them off, we just ripped off tree branches and started hitting each other with them to squash them(something I would never do to my sweet ladies here).

Don't let the smile fool you.......my knees are still wobbly....

We got in the house and crawled out of our space suits. And yes-I am wearing my raincoat underneath. Thomas insisted I needed every layer I brought for protection......turns out he was right. As the adrenaline rush wears off, I am left wobbly kneed, and drenched in fear sweat (raincoats don't breath much), and very thankful I didn't need my epi-pen.

I have not decided yet if the experience was worth the risk. I certainly must give Thomas props for doing this all the time. Beekeepers are crazy. Either way, I made it home safe and slept like a baby.

Until the next adventure......

Jessie

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Sweet and Peaceful

I am almost hesitant to say this in case it evokes the wrath of irony...... but things are going so well here. So much better than expected. For those of you who may be new to the Jess-orphan-babies-Saga, I am in the process of taking responsibility for 6 kids in the form of a small children's home. I fell in love with these pumpkins several years ago when i met them in an orphange. The orphanage has disgustingly corrupt leadership who are taking the donation money meant to provide for the children, and it got to the point where I could not bear to see them in those condtions anymore. I already moved two of the kids and gave their mother a job at the guest house, but there were 4 remaining that I didn't feel like it was safe to take them last time. So this time I came fully prepared to go trekking all over the bush with insufficient directions to find their grandfather (who proably doesnt speak English) in order to get him to sign the consent for relocation to my home. (I'm trying to avoid being accused of being a baby snatcher by the crazy-thief-orphanage lady).
On the morning I was planning on heading out on this grandfather hunt, there was a commotion at my door at 7 am. There was a woman waiting on my porch whom the children call their auntie (I think she is actually a neighbor). The oldest girl had called her to come meet me. I found out that she found the kids living in a hut they made of grass and leaves on the side of the grandfathers home, and asked if she could take me them to her home. She got a document from the village chief and the grandfather actually gave her custody. She also has children of her own and was really struggling to care for them, which is how they ended up in the a phoebe house. She also knew the conditions at the orphanage were horrendous, and had been praying and looking for somewhere else for the kids to go. She was a wonderful lady, and so thankful for a safe, happy place for the kids to go. She went to Phoebe House herself and told them she was taking the kids back to her home, so I didn't have to deal with them again, and now they don't even know the kids are here with me. Blessings! Within 12 hours of meeting her, the kids are now in my home, and in my care.

She told me when she first took the children, the oldest girl, Mideva, would only sleep during the day because she was used to sitting up all night. The shelter they were living in was apparently not very secure (one can only do so much with grass and sticks after all) and she was worried the wild dogs that roam at night would "carry off the littlest one", being Naomy. Heart strings......wrenched.

The first night they were all here they stayed up until almost midnight because they were just so excited. I am repainting the house, one room at a time, so they all hung out in the room I was working in and made up dances to the music on my phone I was listening to. Presh. They're staying at rotary house with me until the fundi (carpenter) finishes their new bunk beds. There are plenty of beds here, but they still wanted to sleep 3 to a bed. I had to show Naomy and Brian how to get under the sheet/blanket on the bed, since they had never had them before and they were trying to fold the blanket backwards and curl up under it. Awwwww.........

(Arnold literally face-planted in bed and did not stir the whole evening after his first day of school).

I have started to sneak into their room every night to make sure they are all asleep, and to just look at them, sweet and peaceful. This mzungu girl is feeling very happy and blessed right now. The children I love dearly are now finally safe, happy and loved. They will never go hungry, or sit up at night again. I can also rest easy at night once again. God is especially good today :)

Naomy: the kind of tired that only baby school can induce.....

Jacky and Mideva in the kitchen at Rotary House.

Jessie

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Buses and Sweet Boys

Well friends, let me wrap up the excitement of my travels to Maseno with one more catastrophe. After landing in Nairobi I had a mere 4 hours to wait until my bus to Maseno. 4 hours are certainly not bad......unless they begin at 3 am. I immediately regretting my decision to get on an 8-hour bus ride after traveling for 30ish hours (it kills me to say it Aryan-but you were right), but I am not one to admit defeat. Thank the heavens there were two lovely people also waiting for later flights, a Canadian girl and a Egyptian guy, and we passed the time quite nicely. The girl, Kristin, had just arrived for a 4-month research stint, and I fondly recognized the immisakeable I'm-half-way-around-the-world-and-I-don't-belong-here travel regret in her eyes. I remember it well. To keep myself awake and to keep her from bolting onto the next international flight to the western world, I made her a list of travel tips, places to go, and food to try. Then it was time to summon Charlie, my trusty Nairobi driver, to deposit me at the easy coach station. It was then my 8-hour ride began. Thanks again to the heavens, because I got one of the front seats, which meant I wouldn't have to arrive in Maseno with all my joints rattled loose.
I was in and out of consciousness throughout the ride, and would periodically stumble out of the bus to buy a pint of drinking yogurt and then stumble back on. I was roused out once for a flat tire-which I was none too pleased about. I fully regained my senses when we arrived in Kisumu, which was one town away from my home. Yay! Foolishly, I thought to myself, "you're done." I quickly became aware of 2 things; one-was that I needed to use the bathroom BAD(apparently drinking yogurt goes straight to the bladder), and two-I had an impressively matted rat's nest in my hair from my comatose head rubbing on a vinyl seat for 8 hours. I decided to deal with the most pressing issue first when we stopped in kisumu. Every other time we stopped, it was for a least 15-20 min, but just to be safe I asked the driver if I had time to run to the bathroom. He grunted in the affirmative. Or so I thought. So imagine my surprise a few minutes later when I came out, rat's nest still in place because I was in such a rush to get home, and found my bus gone. He left without me!!! And even more alarming to me, he had all my bags on board. I was still in a bleary-eyed stupor, but thankfully a lovely girl helped me summon a taxi to chase the bus down. In all my years in kenya, I have never seen anyone drive as slowly or cautiously as this one.....what are the odds? I was most concerned with my bag of Turkish treasures, followed by my backpack(where all my chocolate was stashed), then the medical supplies. They say crisis situations can bring out people's true feelings.....well, those were mine.
Next I tried to call some of my friends to go to the bus stop and see if they can meet it and grab my luggage, so it wouldn't continue on to Busia. And the network was down. All that was left to do was pray. We did not catch the bus, but we got there pretty shortly after it arrived. My bags and Turkish treasures were all in the office. The only thing I lost, (aka was stolen) was my favorite sweatshirt (yes-the black on with the thumb holes and fold over mittens). It's a loss I will feel deeply as it was not only my favorite, but also the only warm article of clothing I brought. Sadness. But I will press on.
It all became worth it when I pulled up in front of my home and was greeted by my sweet Arnold and Vinicent. Jackyline, of course, had an amazing meal waiting for me, and once again, I am back in love with Kenya :)
As I am sitting on the front porch writing this, my sweet boys are making me look "smart" (aka. Pretty). Vinicent started by picking flowers and gently arranging them in my hair. I know.....presh. (Mzungu hair is a novelty to boys and girls alike in Kenya). Not to be outdone, Arnold (with hands that could be described as less-than-gentle) started weaving leaves and twigs into the wreath-nest as well. Not exactly the outcome Vinicent was hoping for, but I was pleased with the results.
More to come shortly........
Xoxo,
Jessie

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