Friday June 12th

It’s 4:30am Friday June 12th. Today is one of two parties Dry Lands Natural Resources (DNRC) hosts every year to celebrate the farmers and their harvest. The local farmers plan and party and come to celebrate all day. I’ve decided that I will watch a goat being slaughtered for the party. Although I am a bit terrified, I think it is an experience worth having. The Kenyans utilize the land in a way that you may never understand growing up in USA. Majority of Americans I am surrounded by including myself could only identify a handful of plants and animals. Past identification there is limited knowledge regarding there uses besides looking pretty or providing oxygen.

Yesterday we visited a family of ten living in the neighborhood. They welcomed us with dance similarly to the elementary school kids did on Wednesday. Mumbi, one of the Kenyan students says that this is tradition way to greet special guests. It creates an environment of joy and builds an immediate connection. The women were all dressed in beautiful clothing dyed in beautiful colors. We installed a water tank, but the sand didn’t come from Home Depot and the water didn’t come from the sink. We were each hand either a bag for sand or bucket for water. Before we knew where we were going or exactly what we were doing, we fell in line walking along a row of corn fields lined up like ants on the acacia trees. In the distance we overlook rolling hills covered in tropical tree cover. We reached a river and instinctively fulfilled our rolls either shoveling sand into our bags or dipping our buckets into the water. The walk back was an uphill climb a half mile with a bag of heavy sand draped over my shoulder. After a few trips back and forth we were instructed to rest across from the women cooking on pots over wood burning fire and the men mixing concrete (sand and water) to establish a base for the water tank.

While everyone was hard at work and the UWSP students were rested in the shade. Mondi and I ventured into the corn fields. Mombi, speaking Swahili asked an elderly woman if we could continue into the field. Rather than allowing us to continue alone, she wanted to show us her orange trees. She spoke in Swahili and Mombi told me she had said to watch for Black Jacks (a sharp burr that will stick to your clothes). The women pointed out each tree she planted with pride. When we made it to the orange tree, she helped us pick the best ones.