3 generations of moon watchers! And here we are in Africa!
It’s January 27th and we are settling in for our first night in bush camp. This is a conflicting environment. During the day it’s hot (but only if you are not in the shade) but in the night it can get rather chilly.
We gathered together in a rectangle formation in the center of camp sitting on planks laid on the ground. (Not an easily accomplished feat for me, I can tell you!) Blankets (not the Karamajong ones) were handed out and orders were taken for more b/c there wasn’t enough. I was curious as to why we needed blankets but during the night I not only put on the jacket I had brought but pulled that blanket over me that had been lying at my feet. When I had gone to bed it was comfortably warm and I didn’t need the blanket. All of that changed in the night with the onset of the chilly breeze that invaded our sleeping space. Brrh!
We didn’t bother with pj’s b/c they wouldn’t have been warm enough in the night; opting instead for whatever clothes we wore during the day. In the mornings we usually kept these clothes on and came out of our tukals wrapped up in our karamajong blankets and when it warmed up, we would take off the jackets (or the blankets we had wrapped up in!)
Our 3 Karamajong friends wrapped up in their blankets.
It’s Jan. 28 and I awoke at 5:30 a.m. Why, you may ask? I thought it was about 7:30! I hadn’t slept well at all due to the cold (my blanket was stiff and of a rough texture, wasn’t cooperative when I tried to tuck it in around me to keep out the cold, ugh!) Oh well, going back to bed was not an option so I found a place to have my quiet time and journaled.
My son fixed something like potatoe patties for breakfast and with the cookies bought in town, we had a tasty breakfast. Assignments were made–dig a latrine, walk to a nearby town and buy sugar, clear the camp area of rocks and thorns. They were going to dig 2 latrines (his and hers!) but after the laborious act of digging one, it was decided one was enough! This took a few days and in the meantime you had to walk a good distance from the camp, find a secluded bush and well, you know! And yet again, prayed you would not have an audience. (This did happen but thank God not to me, although I had some close calls!) This was manageable as long as you did not have to hurry–and I’ll leave it to your imaginations as to why quick trips might become necessary.) Oh, but that’s another story!
Due to the scarcity of water a daily shower was not an option but after a couple of days in camp I felt the strong desire to change clothes and wash my hair. But because the showers weren’t built yet we had to improvise. This meant we parked the two vehicles downhill from the camp side by side, hung the karamajong blankets over the windows (so no one from camp up the hill could accidentally view a showeree) and stood in the space between the vehicles to wash off (yes it was open to the world on each end). The process involved carrying a plastic wash basin to the area between the trucks, stand on the plastic mats laid on the ground and pour the water over you with another smaller plastic container to rinse off after soaping up. (Oh, that would be after you disrobed and soaped up and prayed no local Karamajong would be strolling by.) I was extremely appreciative of the lavender soap that my tukal mate had given me as a gift. Simple pleasures become luxurious in such situations. My gallant son helped me by carrying my shower water for me and standing guard while I cleaned up. And btw, completely disrobing was not an option for me; not by a long shot. That’s just a little too much vulnerability for me. The day the showers were finally built was a happy day for me. It’s amazing the difference 4 walls make when you are taking a shower!
This is a double shower, actually. The view is from the side so you can’t see the shower beyond. And this picture was taken before the doors were added. Until then we just hung our Karamajong blankets over the open space and prayed the wind wouldn’t blow it down.
Well, that’s enough for today. Next time I’ll share the exciting news about bush latrines.
Being the Mom of a Missionary 