Shots in paradise
Trip Start
Jun 20, 2008
1
12
19
Trip End
Jul 16, 2008
Kitale,
Kenya
Friday, July 4, 2008
Escaping from the rain, Peter, pastor and beekeeper, took us from bus station and we were crammed into one more matatu.
I didn't realize how we arrived, as half asleep we got into entirely different world. The emerald valley with bright red huts, high sugarcanes and sun rolling on the red soil. The village seems was stirred by our arrival, kids were rushing to lend or grab a hand. I was astonished by the beauty, and that I can walk into it, not only observe through window. Smiles were slightly different. Honest ones.
We passed his brothers house full of loud singing. Peter and his family belong to Pentecostal church, which believe that Holy Spirit may talk for them in tongues. Their prayers may be very energetic and overwhelming. Singing grew into loud screams and scarse sounds.
I fell in love with the sight... That valley, lit with sunsetting light left me speechless. And I accommodated myself on the threshold to appreciate every single minute. I even haven't noticed the dark cloud eating out the sun of the valley. That was a heavy summer rain. Barefoot I ran onto the fresh grass and wished I could stay there.
We dined together with a great in number family. Ciapati, vegetables cooked in already familiar african way. And that long powerful prayer that filled in the room. They turn on the electricity generator only for couple of hours every day to familiarize with the news. Sometimes its starts to mess around, and we ended up in cozy xerophene lamplight.
Morning raised me immediately on my feet so I could greet the sun with dew on my feet. Soon we rushed to smell the atmosphere in the village. The distant meadows still untouched by the sun, were covered by foggy cloud layers and the sugarcanes were already sunkissed.
Kids were preparing for school, workers riding their donkeys or bikes, and the village had no signs of disturbed paradice. "Habari asibui" we greeted a man with good morning that we met yesterday. His sad eyes didn't shine with pride as yesterday when he showed us the church to be built by community. "My friend, primary school teacher was shot".
I froze. I completely forgot - yesterday night we heard few gunshots like hudred metres from the place we stayed. "Maybe fireworks" - we probably couldn't sound more ludicrous. But I got scared... As it grew into silence, I drowned into sleep...
Jeeez.. Peter and the others were shocked. The neighboring villagers sometimes come, shoot in the air to scare people off and steal some cattle. But this was fatal.
Village is small. And probably is healthy for us not to stay any longer in this heaven's gate with broken peace.
The kids were sad we leave. They helped us along with our luggage and we said goodbye until next time.
I was sad to leave, but maybe that's for better
