Off to Balaah
Peter arrives at about 6:20 and we pack the taxi for the trip to Wilson airport. The flight is still somewhat delayed and we leave about 9:45 instead of the scheduled 8:00 am. It is quite an uneventful flight. This is the smallest plane I have ever flown in. It is actually quite comfortable.
We arrive in Korr at about 10:20 am, and are greeted by a delegation from Balaah riding in a hired Land Rover driven by Safo, who is from another Rendille tribe closer to Marsabit. I find out later that the Land Rover is 25 years old. No one knows how many miles it has travelled, as the odometer is no longer working. The roads are very rugged with large rocks every where. The Land Rover seems to be the signal that someone special has arrived. We drive slowly through Korr town and Peter stops to buy water and soda for our time there. Most of the homes appear to be huts made of bent branches covered in burlap and cardboard. The shops are made of a cement or plaster and appear more western in style. Everyone comes to greet Peter; he leaves the truck for a while to do some shopping and to meet with friends. Many of the people come to the truck to greet me, shaking my hand. Some attempt to communicate, but I have absolutely no idea what they are saying. Some attempt a rusty English: “How are you?” to which they expect the answer “I am fine.”
When Peter comes back to the truck he introduces me to his sister. We go on to other stores, but there seems to be a shortage of water and no sodas available. Peter gets what he can and we head out on the rocky road to Balaah. After about 15 minutes we come to the Balaah Primary Schoolhouse. We enter each of the four classrooms and greet the children. Peter tests their English reading by asking some of the students to read sentences on the board. We go on to the pre-school building a short distance away. Each of the buildings has a number of large black round containers on the ends. They have been placed there by CEDA, the Canadian relief agency, to collect water from the roof when it rains.
We continue on to one of the boreholes where women are filling containers with water. There is a stench of death as we pass one of the cattle carcasses that has recently died in the famine. As we travel we often stop to give a ride to one or two more who are walking.
On we go to Kimogol, a village of huts, passing a number of them roughly situated in a circle. We stop at one good sized hut In the center, and Peter informs me, “Welcome to Judith’s hut.” Everyone scurries to unpack the truck and to get all of our belongings into the hut. I meet Speaker, the man who takes care of Judith’s hut and _______, the woman who prepares meals for us. We sit inside on lawn chairs and many of the elders come to talk to Peter. Everyone who comes in shakes my hand and greets me warmly. I am instructed to greet them with the words “ne bay”.
After a while the hut becomes very warm; Peter advises me to put on my sunscreen and we move to a large shade tree about 250 meters away. This is the men’s tree; the women are gathered under their own tree. Two men come with a log board that has cups carved into it and someone empties marbles from an old, dusty bottle. They begin to play a game in which marbles are transferred from one cup to another. Soon an elder comes and takes over the game, playing with any comers for the rest of the afternoon. Here everyone rests and talks, many sleep. It is very hot and dry. We notice rain clouds to the east and I am informed that it is raining in Marsabit. They are not expecting the clouds to reach Balaah, although they do come fairly close.
Peter asks me to be ready to preach. He has to leave to go to the school to sort out some problems there. He tells Mindaye to translate for me. I give a short message on God’s grace based on the story of the woman taken in adultery from John 8. They thank me for coming to bring the gospel.
We rest some more. I am quite tired, not only because of the heat but also because I am still recovering from the jet lag.
Peter returns and as the sun begins to set, we make our way back to Judith’s hut. There we sit in the shade on the east side of the hut. Peter encourages me to take pictures, so I get some of the men who come by to greet him, as well as some of the little boys playing nearby. A camel died earlier in the day and collapsed just about 50 meters from where we are; and the men make use of the Land Rover to drag it out of the village so that they are not plagued by the awful smell of its decaying body.
After the sun has gone down we move to the west of the hut where the door is. There discussion continues while supper is being cooked. We eat a staple called Ugali, made of maize. Its texture is a cross between bread and mashed potatoes, quite dry. This is placed on a mixture of beans, tomatoes, and onions. It is quite tasty. After I shine a flashlight on my plate, I discover that the reason we eat in complete darkness may be because we are unable to see the insects in our food that way.
The mats are hauled out of the tent; we will sleep out of doors in what Judith and Peter call their “all-star hotel”. It is beautiful to see the multitude of stars stretch to every horizon and the Milky Way really does look quite “milky”. It is a wonderful way to fall asleep.
We arrive in Korr at about 10:20 am, and are greeted by a delegation from Balaah riding in a hired Land Rover driven by Safo, who is from another Rendille tribe closer to Marsabit. I find out later that the Land Rover is 25 years old. No one knows how many miles it has travelled, as the odometer is no longer working. The roads are very rugged with large rocks every where. The Land Rover seems to be the signal that someone special has arrived. We drive slowly through Korr town and Peter stops to buy water and soda for our time there. Most of the homes appear to be huts made of bent branches covered in burlap and cardboard. The shops are made of a cement or plaster and appear more western in style. Everyone comes to greet Peter; he leaves the truck for a while to do some shopping and to meet with friends. Many of the people come to the truck to greet me, shaking my hand. Some attempt to communicate, but I have absolutely no idea what they are saying. Some attempt a rusty English: “How are you?” to which they expect the answer “I am fine.”
When Peter comes back to the truck he introduces me to his sister. We go on to other stores, but there seems to be a shortage of water and no sodas available. Peter gets what he can and we head out on the rocky road to Balaah. After about 15 minutes we come to the Balaah Primary Schoolhouse. We enter each of the four classrooms and greet the children. Peter tests their English reading by asking some of the students to read sentences on the board. We go on to the pre-school building a short distance away. Each of the buildings has a number of large black round containers on the ends. They have been placed there by CEDA, the Canadian relief agency, to collect water from the roof when it rains.
We continue on to one of the boreholes where women are filling containers with water. There is a stench of death as we pass one of the cattle carcasses that has recently died in the famine. As we travel we often stop to give a ride to one or two more who are walking.
On we go to Kimogol, a village of huts, passing a number of them roughly situated in a circle. We stop at one good sized hut In the center, and Peter informs me, “Welcome to Judith’s hut.” Everyone scurries to unpack the truck and to get all of our belongings into the hut. I meet Speaker, the man who takes care of Judith’s hut and _______, the woman who prepares meals for us. We sit inside on lawn chairs and many of the elders come to talk to Peter. Everyone who comes in shakes my hand and greets me warmly. I am instructed to greet them with the words “ne bay”.
After a while the hut becomes very warm; Peter advises me to put on my sunscreen and we move to a large shade tree about 250 meters away. This is the men’s tree; the women are gathered under their own tree. Two men come with a log board that has cups carved into it and someone empties marbles from an old, dusty bottle. They begin to play a game in which marbles are transferred from one cup to another. Soon an elder comes and takes over the game, playing with any comers for the rest of the afternoon. Here everyone rests and talks, many sleep. It is very hot and dry. We notice rain clouds to the east and I am informed that it is raining in Marsabit. They are not expecting the clouds to reach Balaah, although they do come fairly close.
Peter asks me to be ready to preach. He has to leave to go to the school to sort out some problems there. He tells Mindaye to translate for me. I give a short message on God’s grace based on the story of the woman taken in adultery from John 8. They thank me for coming to bring the gospel.
We rest some more. I am quite tired, not only because of the heat but also because I am still recovering from the jet lag.
Peter returns and as the sun begins to set, we make our way back to Judith’s hut. There we sit in the shade on the east side of the hut. Peter encourages me to take pictures, so I get some of the men who come by to greet him, as well as some of the little boys playing nearby. A camel died earlier in the day and collapsed just about 50 meters from where we are; and the men make use of the Land Rover to drag it out of the village so that they are not plagued by the awful smell of its decaying body.
After the sun has gone down we move to the west of the hut where the door is. There discussion continues while supper is being cooked. We eat a staple called Ugali, made of maize. Its texture is a cross between bread and mashed potatoes, quite dry. This is placed on a mixture of beans, tomatoes, and onions. It is quite tasty. After I shine a flashlight on my plate, I discover that the reason we eat in complete darkness may be because we are unable to see the insects in our food that way.
The mats are hauled out of the tent; we will sleep out of doors in what Judith and Peter call their “all-star hotel”. It is beautiful to see the multitude of stars stretch to every horizon and the Milky Way really does look quite “milky”. It is a wonderful way to fall asleep.
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