Kanyenda

Wednesday, 12/12/12

Today was a chaotic blend of boredom and hectic frenzy. First: hectic frenzy. I woke up to discover that we were out of milk, so I had to walk into the restaurant with my cereal box and ask for a bowl of milk. On the way there, I passes the ugliest turkey I've ever seen.

Apres le petit dejeuner came my first bout with boredom. Djondoh had planned to pick us up at 8:30, but had an unexpected meeting and couldn't come until 11:00. It took about 75 minutes to get to Kanyenda, and the terrible road slowed us down a lot. It was partially washed away by rain, and a very bumpy ride. When we finally arrived-- 3 hours late-- there were only 30 or 40 of the 120 families present; the others were planting while the ground was wet. Djondoh was very familiar with Kanyenda, so he introduced us casually ("So, Ezra, tell them about yourself! How many wives do you have?") When Dad was introduced, he was greeted by cheers and applause. When he had visited Kanyenda in November, he'd created a bit of a legend by playing soccer, netball, and British Bulldogs with abandon, all the while sporting his Indiana Jones-esque hat. When he put on another of his hats (he'd given away the original to a villager last time) the cheers doubled.

We got right to work, aided by Francis (the best interpreter yet) and a couple others. Inevitably, after a few minutes, the scene descended into chaos. EVERYONE wanted a picture with me or Tim. Not to print out-- we didn't have enough paper-- just for fun. We interrupted our card-preparing to oblige the horde of smiling Kanyendans, and within five minutes Djondoh's camera had about 100 new pictures on it. We eventually pried ourselves free, but by that point we had no idea who'd gotten a picture already and who still needed theirs. While Djondoh spoke on forgiveness and cooperation, we hastily distributed the remaining cards and took pictures for those who arrived late from the fields.In the end, it was actually much easier than expected--only 50 familes turned up by the time we left. It started to rain again, so Djondoh continued to preach about friendship and helping out the Heifer enumerators who will visit again in February.

Once we established that the rain wasn't going to slow up anytime soon, a few villagers made little speeches thanking us for visiting and praising Djondoh's message. When it came time for a closing prayer, Djondoh asked for someone from the village to deliver one, just like he had in the previous two villages. An awkward silence followed his gaze around the room, until one woman piped up: "How about Ezra or Tim?"

Terror.

Tim seemed to be having a similar reaction, so I stepped up awkwardly. Now, I hadn't delivered a public prayer since the high schoolers taught Sunday School a few years ago-- and those 3rd graders were a pretty easy audience. I went on about Kanyenda's hospitality for a while and was preparing to address Djondoh's topics of forgiveness and friendship (previous prayers had been very long-winded and I wanted to do them justice) when I had a revelation: only about 5 people there could understand me! I quickly wrapped it up, and was met by an overwhelming ovation-- questionable post-prayer protocol, but I think they were appreciating the honor I did them by praying there.

Interesting Side Note:
Dad had lost his favorite hat as part of a gift exchange in November, so Mom was perpetually worried that she'd be caught without anything to give in case something similar happened to her. Despite our reassurances, a woman offered Mom a pair of wooden spoons (so she could show people back home "how an African woman cooks"). The woman seemed very pleased with the extra picture she took with Mom,, so any potential gift-awkwardness was avoided.