Life in Kitale October 15, 2010

Today is catch-up day so I'll try to answer some of your questions.

We can remember only one day that it hasn't rained since we've been here. Most days it rains about 3PM, but some days it rains several times...usually these are downpours. Day before yesterday it rained so hard and blew so hard, it was something else. The branch president of Kitale, who (as with everyone we've visited with one exception) lives in a mud house. He came to Temple Prep class and said he and his family sat in their home during the bad rain and wondered literally if their house was going to melt away. They could see the mud run down the walls onto the mud floor. How would that be? I just can't imagine.

We think the delivery of the new baby went well. We need to visit there today. We have one newborn kit leftover from a former Humanitarian effort. We want to deliver it to them. We don't know if the returning elder got home.

We have not had Malaria, but Malaria and AIDS are ubiquitous as Kevin would say. The mission provides us with Malaria pills to be taken every day. We are religious about it. The members tell us the mosquitoes go away in the light, and only come out in the dark.

The R.S. Pres is 59 and her husband is 68 in the branch we visited yesterday, Misikhu. They are wonderful, humble people. They run what is called a "hotel" here. It is a very small, dark little...what we would call a cafe...only it is really too small to be what we would call a cafe...it is about 4 booths...it was too dark to see down inside...more like a bear den or a very dark, narrow cave...dirt walls and floor where food is served to the public on wooden planks with benches. They both teach seminary, run the cafe, and have taken on their neighbor's 4 children. The neighbor's husband died of AIDS some time ago, as did one of their children. The neighbor wife is very, very ill at this time with AIDS and has gone to live with her father, so these sweet people have taken on the four remaining children--teenagers. The R.S. Pres' husband was the former branch president. They are the kindest, most humble people. He has been very ill with asthma and Malaria. Death is a constant here.

Our truck has been doing well lately. I fear greatly the time when the tires puncture…not from stickers…although we do go deep into the jungle…but from the constant abuse they get on the potholed roads.

We don’t go out after dark very often. We just had a rash of calls there for awhile. It was very unusual. The members call us out because they have no other alternatives when they have emergencies…Very few have bikes and even fewer have motorcycles. We know of only one branch president who has a motorcycle..maybe 2 in our four branches.

So, the only way they can get somewhere is to walk. Public transport is to catch a bike and be pumped somewhere. The bike drivers have a seat on the back fender, and there is a metal bar about 12 inches long that is welded under the seat that the passenger holds onto. The bikes and motors refuse to take passengers when it has rained because it is so dangerous to slide in the mud.

We have Salvation Army members who wear all white clothing who serve the villages. They wear white headgear and white dresses or pants. The Quaker religion is very strong here, and their leaders –men and women—also wear all white.

We have Community Helpers who wear only a certain white headgear. They receive a bike as “payment” and work for the government teaching hygiene, dispensing water tablets, and deworming medicine. They also teach AIDS prevention.

We have the African Israel Church. They wear very colorful long clothing, and I can’t find anyone who can tell me what they believe.

We see men wearing caftan-like flowing gowns in many different colors.

The traditional dress here for women is a bandana headcovering—often with wings extending to the side, and a modest, long dress covered with a piece of fabric—probably 1 ½ yard wide which is wrapped and tied at the waist. The women almost always wear a cape or shawl and have another length of fabric to carry their babies on their backs. It is just amazing to us that those babies don’t fall out. It looks like their little bottoms wouldn’t give enough depth to hold them in, but they do. Their little head bob as they sleep placidly through just about anything.

The landlord warned us to be very careful if we have a plumber come to the house because “he will cheat you! You must stand by him all the time he is in your home or he will break something while he is there, so that you must call him back to service it.” We can’t tell if the landlord is just paranoid, or if that is true. We are amazed how cynical people are about honesty of others here. We hope it is not true.

Neal asked the Branch President if he had electricity in his home. He looked wistfully and said, “It will take years for that to happen. We must trust in God. He will provide” and then he smiled. They are so patient.

We are teaching 2 Missionary Preparation lessons, 2 Temple Preparation Lessons, and a seminary class, a week. We just started a conducting and piano class once every 2 weeks, plus we are doing a lot of visiting. We also teach about 28 Seminary and Institute teachers once a month. So, the work is picking up. Today is our catch up and prepare lesson day. We also teach classes every week extemporaneously on Sundays. Every single week we visit, we are asked to teach because they are not prepared or are so overworked, they are swamped. We also are visiting one branch each Saturday to attend their seminary/institute classes. So, that pretty much describes what we do.

New Experiences---New Insights October 10, 2010 2 month mark

October 10, 2010 Our two month mark! Sunday Just some disjointed observations and experiences.

LOVING THE PEOPLE---that is the easy part

We went to visit a man (Ben) and his family way out in the bukid. He has 8 children, one of whom is now serving a mission in South Africa. This man is the 2^nd Counselor in the Branch Presidency, but has not come to Church for 3 months because he was offended. The 1^st Counselor in the Branch Presidency took us to his home. He and his wife and 2 of the babies were present in their home as we visited.

Neal sat very close to him and just loved him (this is so typical of Neal and his feelings for the people). He just asked him why he wasn’t coming. Ben proceeded after a bit to tell him that he was offended with the Branch President because he wouldn’t pay for Ben’s daughter’s funeral. She wasn’t a member of the Church—a married woman, who died very young. He was also offended because no one came to his home to ask why he wasn’t coming to Church. (The bridge has been out and he has been very angry with others at Church for various reasons). Neal just loved him and reasoned with him that he couldn’t afford to drop out of the Church and take all of his children with him. He and his wife and family just went to the temple for the first time in February, and these things happened shortly thereafter. He explained how important it will be to his family to be bound together, and how much he needs the Church and the Church needs him. It is about an hour and a half walk to Church for them.

Then Neal and the 1^st Counselor gave Ben a blessing and then encouraged him to give his wife a blessing, which he did (the first time ever). Then Neal encouraged him to hug his wife…something very foreign to them.

Neal asked permission if he could talk to the Branch President about the problem. We then drove to the president’s shop out on the street some distance away and had him get into the car and explained what had happened. He was wonderful. He had tried many, many times to apologize and to try to bridge the gap with his counselor, to no avail. He was very willing to work with Ben and to apologize to him again and to welcome him back and sit down and counsel with him.

We were to go out on Sunday when Ben promised to return to Church. The plan was for Neal to meet with the two men to try to bring them together again. As it happened, we were just leaving our branch to go to their branch when we got the emergency phone call to drive to get the elder who was returning home early. Ben did come to Church, and they did meet together and mend the hurt feelings on both sides.

WHAT ARE WE DOING? We’ve gone to each of the four Branch Presidents and offered to spend one day a week with their branch every other week, and do whatever the Branch Presidency needs us to do. This is including in most of them, teaching a temple preparation class, teaching a prospective missionary class, visiting less actives and seminary students, and teaching conducting and piano. Then we also will be visiting each of the four branches on rotation each Saturday afternoon to attend their seminary and institutes classes….some branches have 3-4 classes and every branch has at least one seminary and one institute class. We will also continue to rotate visiting each branch in rotation for Sunday services.

HEARTACHE and POLYGAMY (names changed)

We were teaching a Temple Prep class and visiting with one of the attendees. She (Bonnie) is in her 50’s, and looks much younger. She has been a member for 10 years and is a widow with 6 children, 3 of whom are unmarried and still at home. One of the boys is called Bishop Jordan and one is called King Geoffrey. The Bishop and King part is true. She is anxious to have all of them attend the temple with her. Her daughter is 23 yrs old and married to a member of another faith. She has joined that Church with her husband, so she will be unable to attend. Then Bonnie told the following heartbreaking story.

Her daughter-in-law , Mary, (married to Bonnie’s oldest son, Jerry) lives right next door to Bonnie on the family plot with Bonnie’s little granddaughter. Jerry, is a returned missionary. Jerry and Mary have 3 children: 2 boys and a girl. When they got married, the dowry for Mary was 13 cows, several goats, some money etc…..Jerry was never able to pay it. Mary’s family took him to court for the dowry a couple of years ago—after the couple had 3 kids. Jerry couldn’t pay it. The court said it would be effective immediately. The court costs and judgment expanded the amount due including his coat, his hat, a tremendous amount of money.

Because he couldn’t pay and didn’t want to go to jail, he fled to Nairobe where he finally took his 2 sons (leaving the daughter with Mary), and married a second wife. He still visits Mary on occasion. As a result, he has been excommunicated for polygamy. Such grief and pain.

THE YOUTH SUNDAY SCHOOL CLASS

Today, we visited a different branch (one of our 4). I attended the Youth Sunday School Class. I was not the teacher, but the last half, they asked me to be the teacher. The lesson was out of Gospel Essentials Manual on Creating Heavenly Homes. It was a lively lesson—young men and young women together. There were probably 30 kids crammed into a little room. They talked about caning their children to teach them to honor the father in the home and teach discipline. I asked if they thought the prophet caned his children to force them into line. It was a hotly discussed issue because it is so much a part of what they know and believe.

We also talked about wife beating and dowries and African Culture when it collides with Church culture. They talked about paying a dowry as a “sign of appreciation to the parents of the bride” but that it also provided license for many to beat their wives because they become property which was paid for.

We talked about being equal partners and truly loving our spouses and children. I explained how much I love Neal and how much he loves me, and how we would never ever hurt one another physically and would try to never hurt each other verbally. One of the prospective missionaries in the group finally asked, “How can I find a good wife?” We talked about that. I told them about the song, “How to Handle a Woman” and how the lyrics go . . . “simply love her. . . truly love her.” And how when we love each other and treat each other kindly, that love will go on forever and ever. The older boys wanted copies of the song, so they could keep it for when they find just the RIGHT wife! It was really neat.

When we got to Young Women, they sang “Israel, Israel, God is Calling” It was almost breath-taking because it was so beautiful. Of course, they have no pianos in these buildings. They were singing without music and had developed their own harmony and an obligato part that was just gorgeous.

We went into Young Women’s right after that. The YW President was there with her two counselors, but she told me they rarely come to Church. We had seven girls in the class. They were eager learners. No lesson was prepared and no theme given, but we still had a good lesson on the Plan of Salvation. I say good, not because I was good, but because we had a good discussion based on what had been discussed in the earlier class. After class the YW President told me she walks with her 4 kids 2 hours to get to Church because it costs 100 shillings if they ride (100 shillings is a little over $1)—a fortune to her.

She asked me if there was any way we could get her some scriptures because she only has a paperback Bk of Mormon and no Triple or Bible. So, Neal and I met with the Branch Pres afterward to see if we could start the Scripture Program here like we had in the Philippines: For 2 months anyone over 12 who (1.) reads Bk of Mormon every day for ½ hr (2) prays morning and night, (3) attends Church, (4) has FHE each week can qualify for paperback scriptures which we will provide…only this time we will do it through the Branch President so it isn’t coming from us. The seminary kids in each branch are going to be studying the Doctrine and Covenants next year, and I would say almost all of them are going to be without scriptures.

BOARDING SCHOOL Many, many of the parents of school age kids will do anything to earn enough money to send their kids to boarding school. They feel this is the only chance for their kids to get ahead. As we talked with the elders in our area, they told us they had been sent to these kinds of schools when they were kids, and that they were not good places. The kids attend for several months without returning home. They are often exposed to drinking, immorality, and other vices, even though they know the threat of AIDS. The elders said the kids think they will not be affected. It is difficult to run a seminary program because so many of them are gone, but it is also so sad that they don't have their parents' sheltering security during those really important years.

MISSION ZONE CONFERENCE

We went to Zone Conference in Eldoret (2 hours away on roads you would never believe). A highlight of the conference for me was the farewell testimony of a darling sister from South Africa. She is so mature in the gospel. Oh my goodness. The President and Assistants have kidded that she should be the new Assistant because she is so sharp and so spiritual. She talked about when her family joined the Church, they were the only members in their neighborhood, and they were persecuted so strongly by their neighbors. She talked of going to bed night after night and having people throw stones on their metal roof and call out terrible things about them. She spoke of her father and his faithfulness, of him sitting her down and explaining that the neighbors just don’t understand, and that she needed to be strong. She is so fun to listen to because she speaks with that loud clicking sound that the natives had in "The Gods Must be Crazy!'

PRIESTHOOD DEDICATION We got a phone call last night at 8:30 PM from our local Branch President. He said he and his counselors were about 15 minutes away from the Church after having been to Kisumu for the day for a Branch President's Conference. He asked if we would come to the church and take them home. They live in different parts of the area—each about a 2 hour or 2 ½ hour walk from the Church. It was very dark, and we were so grateful we had the Branch President with us because we would never have been able to find our way to their homes and back in the rain without him. We are so impressed with these men. They are so poor…they have absolutely nothing. The 2 counselors got to the Church the night before and slept there so they could be ready when they could get transport in the morning--yesterday morning. They rode 4 hours over roads from you know where…terrible roads….to get to the meeting---going without breakfast….then went to the meeting and rode 5 hours back to get to our building---again going without supper. Then we met them and drove for a long while to get them home from the Church. Such dedication….they are amazing, humble men.

I woke up this morning with 10 bites all over my body….I’m just about going mad with itching…the only good thing about them is that some of them are inside where my clothes cover, so I hope that means they are not Malaria bearing mosquito bites! GRRRRRRR……itchy itchy! That is the news of the day!

Some Medical Emergencies

October 6, 2010 Friday

We received a couple of calls requesting help for an elder who has had some struggles here and wanted to return home to South Africa. He is serving in the most distant part of our area—the branch where we had such a frightening experience with the muddy roads. We were in Sacrament Meeting here in Kitale when we saw a flurry of activity within the small congregation. One of the elders assigned to the branch we were attending came to Neal with a message he had just received on his phone. At the same time, someone approached the branch president at the front with a message.

The elder in question was in “serious condition”, and people with him were very worried about him, and could we come at get him immediately and take him to the hospital in the town where we live. It would take us an hour to get up there and an hour back if the roads were perfect. We prepared to leave immediately.

Then we received another call saying they had found an “ambulance”. We’ve only seen one ambulance ???? since we got here…a rickety, rusty old van, and that was in Nairobe…never one out here. Nevertheless, the “ambulance” with the doctor, was to bring him down. We went home to prepare to meet him at the “hospital”….supposedly, the best hospital in this area as opposed to the District Hospital for poor folks, which the natives tell us is terrible. When I talked to our househelper about the District Hospital, and she said it was so bad; I asked her where she would go if she was sick. She said, “The District Hospital, because we have no money.”

Neal and I mulled that over for a long time. How do you live, knowing, if you ever get sick enough that you must go to the hospital, that you are going a place that may very well make you much sicker than before you went. Consequently, they go to the hospital very rarely and just try to live with cuts, and illnesses until there is no other recourse.

So, we are waiting to hear that they have arrived at the hospital. About an hour later we get a phone call from the elder’s comp (who is the District Leader by the way), who says, “We are in Sikhendu at the market standing on the road waiting for you. The ambulance just dropped us off! “ WHAT! Sikhendu is a good ½ hour away from us. Just another example that we don’t really understand what is going on. We think we do, but we don’t. So, we picture the sick elder to be lying prostrate in the mud in the middle of the market.

We drive like mad and sure enough there they are standing out like angels amid all the chaos of the market—white shirts blazing. We load them into our truck. We have no idea why the ambulance only came that far and then dropped them off.

The symptoms: fever, headache, seizure-like rigidity and curled, claw-like fingers, high heart rate. He had been treated for Malaria 2 days previously. He didn’t act very sick, but then what do we know. We drove to the “good hospital” according to the companion. “It is very good. Much better than the District Hospital”, he assured us. Only the rich can go to this one. We really had a time finding this hospital, traveling back through some really muddy, slippery, and deeply cut roads with great hills of mud and then big descents into potholes you could literally be buried in.

We pulled in about 1:00 PM. It was pouring rain and so muddy to get to the door. It rains every day here. The hospital was very dirty and dark, with wooden floors and moldy, peeling paint everywhere. The medical equipment in the one room looked pre-World War II vintage. The toilet was a sight to behold—however, better than the one in the Philippines, which had no seat. The hospital reminded us very much of the Philippines, except there were only I think, 2 patients in this hospital actually in beds. We were told it is because it is so expensive to come to this one so few patients come here. The District Hospital is packed, however.

There was a single, backless wooden bench, which had at one time had a cushion, but now had stuffing only on the edges with a ragged hole in the middle so the luckless patient who got that section sat on the wood. It was about a yard and a half long, and five of us crowded onto it. The others had to stand.

We waited probably ½ hour before the elder was taken in. We saw only 3 hospital personnel the entire time we were there. All were dressed casually. The doctor talked with the elder and wrote his diagnosis and treatment in a small notebook the elder had brought with him from his former treatment 2 days prior. The doctor told him he needed 2 shots and 3 kinds of medicine, to go get it at a chemist and then come back. Neal and the District Leader ran through the rain across the parking lot to the pharmacy/chemist nearby. They only had enough medicine for one shot and one dose of the one medicine. While they were gone probably another ½ hour, a young man came and grabbed the doctor, and they took off.

The nurse gave the elder the shot in his hand and told him he needed to go find a chemist somewhere else to get his other shot and medicine later and for him to go out and wait in the hall until the doctor returned. We then began to wait and wait and wait.

I shared the bench with a woman I’m positive must have had pneumonia. She sounded like death and looked it. I tried to commiserate with her, but she didn’t understand me. After about 2 hours, she and the 3 people with her, plus another patient with her partner, who had been waiting before us, eventually all left because no doctor appeared.

We tried to call the doctor over and over—but no answer. The nurse said, “The doctors do not answer calls from new patients.” So, we tried to get her to call. She did many times, still no answer. So here we are in a dark, dirty hospital with no doctors available, and 2 female attendants to help us, who can’t read the diagnoses nor the medicine the doctor wrote down. Finally, we decided to leave about 5:00PM. The doctor never came.

We drove again through the rain down into town to try to find a chemist open on a Sunday night. The market closes regularly at 6:00 PM, so the town dies at that time. We fortunately found a chemist open. The pharmacy looked like a hotdog stand with an outdoor counter running the length of the storefront and medicine lined up on the wall right behind the counter. The elders hugged this counter to get inside the overhang so they wouldn’t drown with the rain pouring in torrents on top of them.

When they finally got back into the car, the sick elder was moaning and really acting like he was in excruciating pain. Apparently, the clerk had taken him back behind the counter and given him a shot in his upper arm that was absolutely terrible. He moaned all the way home with the pain and still suffered with it later. We were shocked again by the way the medicine…a shot…was dispensed right there on that filthy, dirty street. The next day, we received word that the elder was going home.

He and his companion called us that night and asked if we would either come up and get them then or come up the next morning to get them so he could catch the 8:20 AM bus to Nairobe and there get a flight to Johannesburg. We are very nervous about that road—particularly in the dark. (It is against mission rules to drive in the dark here). That road is terrible in the light because of all the big deep holes and sliding in the mud, add to that the donkeys, chickens, dogs, people, parked vehicles , and moving bikes, motors, and cars –some without lights….It is just terrifying. So, we opted to get him in the morning.. It is an hour drive one way in good weather.

We left at 5:15 AM…It was still dark, and we just prayed the rain to be slight, which it was. We were able to get him down to the bus station on time. We were so thankful, but so saddened to see him leave. The President had really worked to try to keep him here. I think the straw that broke his back is that it had been raining and raining and raining for several days, and the elders travel by being pedaled on someone’s bike or by riding on the back of a motorcycle. They tried to get a ride in the rain back to their apartment one day prior to the medical episode, and no one would take them because it is too scary on those muddy roads to ride a motor.

Finally, they found someone who took them, but charged them a lot more, and then would only take them about half way back to their digs. Then they had to slog through the rain and sticky mud for a long, long distance to get home. The elder entered the house, already having been discouraged for several months, and just said, “That is it. I’m going home!” Then he had this medical episode the next morning.

ANOTHER MEDICAL EMERGENCY About 2 weeks after we arrived in the mission, we were attending Church, and the 2^nd counselor in the branch presidency asked us to come to his home. His wife was home sick (pregnant), and he really was adamant that we go home with him. We didn’t understand why. We couldn’t really understand him very well, but because he was so strong about it, we took him home, still wondering what he wanted. He is about 28, very nice looking young man, convert of about 5 years.

We finally decided maybe he wanted us to come out to see his home because it is cement and nicer than some of the others, although it is very, very small…again no place to walk in the room, just furniture in a very confined space. When we got there his wife, Nancy, was sleeping on one of the couches. We still didn’t know why we were there, and I finally asked if she needed a blessing. Neal and Nashon (the husband) gave her a blessing, and we left. It was very difficult to get to their home. You must go up a short , very muddy incline that is entirely ripped up with great gashes and almost a stream running down it. The incline is very narrow and frightening to get up. Once on top, it is just a swamp of mud. We did remember that trip up.

Last week (this is about a month later), we saw Nashon far across town from his area while we were visiting in the home of another member. We asked about Nancy and her impending delivery.

During this conversation, we were sitting in the middle of one of the Kitale slums, in a clay house in an alley with 10 of us in a teeny room, sitting on top of each other. There was no light in the room except when the cloth hanging from the door blew open. We could not see each other’s faces because it was so dark. Loud music was blaring down the alley (I kept thinking,”This sounds like the midway of an amusement park,!” This loud music goes on all day long, and people from the village quietly stood and stared at us all the way from the car to the opening of their home.

We were talking about labor and deliveries. The mother of this home was explaining to Nashon that he needed to be prepared to deliver his soon-to-be born baby, and that she and her husband had delivered one of their children right there in that room. I asked how this was done. I couldn’t see a place where anyone could lie down there. The husband said, “Oh, it is easy. You just get two pegs (clothespins) and place them here and here…”(he demonstrated) “and then you take this razor…” it had been sitting on the arm of the chair in which he sat, “and cut between them.”

Nashon shook his head and said, “that isn’t going to happen. She is going to the hospital.” Sister K. said, “You can’t be sure. You don’t know when it will happen. You may not be able to get her there.” He strongly disagreed. I said, “Do you know how to deliver a baby, Nashon?” He shook his head and just wouldn’t consider any other alternative. Then he said Nancy was due any time, and that “you (pointing to us) will come and get her and take her to the hospital when she needs to go.” “WHAT!” We said, “We don’t know where you live.” He said, “Oh yes, you do. You were there before, a few weeks ago.” Right! We don’t have a clue where he lives. We always marvel that we THINK we understand what is going on, but we really don’t. There are always expectations that we don’t understand nor even realize.

So, we took him home that day and tried to remember where they live in case we might have to return some time on the off-chance that there may be a midnight ride. Yeah right! That will never happen!

Last night, we got a phone call at 12:30AM. It was Nashon saying Nancy was crying and could we come right now and get them because they had no way to get to the hospital. No bikes or motors or matatus run anywhere close to their house. It was pouring rain and soooo muddy!

We hurried and began driving….it is so scary at night. We were really nervous about his inclined hill. It was every bit as bad as we had remembered, but the Lord blessed us to get up it. We drove past a couple of mud walls unsure of just which one was theirs. Then we saw him.

He was standing by his gate in the rain. As we pulled up, three women approached the car with him. He kept yelling that he would get in the back of the shell of the truck. Nancy got in first, crying and moaning and gasping…then a woman with a wash tub and some towels got in and finally Nashon because we couldn’t get the back open, and it was pouring….the other lady must have gone back in the house.

(In fact it was so dark, I didn’t know there was another woman until Neal told me later). It was a rough road back down, slipping and sliding in the rain and mud , and Nancy crying and moaning and speaking loudly with the woman in Swahili or their native language which may have been Luao. We finally got to the District Hospital, an awful place…dark and dirty…only one fluorescent light in the entry. They got out and we left them knowing if we went into the building, they would be charged 3-4 times what the fee would have been ordinarily for them. We are still waiting to hear what happened. We called the branch president this morning, but he hasn’t called back.

We couldn’t sleep when we got home. We kept wondering what it would be like toanticipate labor and not have transport to get to the hospital. To worry about what delivery will be like and know that you will either have to face it alone in your home or go to a facility that may cause you more harm than good. How much faith these women must have to face those odds…. It just is beyond us.. Absolutely beyond us.

It reminds me. The same day we were in the slum area (THEY call it the “slum”. It is not a derogatory term for them as it would be for us, even though it looks like parts of New York City in that there is garbage everywhere and dogs, etc.) visiting the family with the razor blade, we were leaving town and Nashon said, “There’s Sister R______ bending over in front of her house.”

We had visited the R family the week before. Neal wanted to stop to go talk to her, but there was no place to park on the edge of the path where we were driving because of the big deep drop offs to ditches on either side of the narrow, muddy road. People stood everywhere watching, watching our every action.

We had a young girl in our car, so I stayed in the car with her, while Neal and Nashon ran back to see Sister R., just to say,” hi.” They were gone for about 15 minutes, and when they returned, Sister R. came with them, a little upset with me. We shook hands, and then, “Why you refuse to come to see me! Why you stay in the car!” she demanded. I tried to explain because we had the girl with us. She was clearly a bit miffed with me. Then she explained that she hadn’t been feeling well because she is suffering right now with Malaria and Typhoid. There we go again, expectations that we don’t understand. We THINK we understand, but we HAVEN’T a CLUE!