This edition of the blogovel is perhaps a bit overdue, but: Welcome to Africa. I’ve heard that phrase used before, usually to point out an instance when Murphy’s Law had somehow taken affect and caused a bit of frustration for a foreigner somewhere on the continent. In Turkmenistan, we had a similar phrase for everything going wrong and taking four times as long as we expect for something to be accomplished “I’ve been Tstan-ed”. I even expected that I would use the African phrase more than once while I was here, but after arrival was quite surprised at just how developed this place is. I don’t know whether that’s Kenya, or Taita-Taveta County, or maybe even the town of Voi specifically, but life feels pretty normal here with very few adaptations required for outside visitors. So imagine my surprise yesterday when I finally heard someone say a dejected “Welcome to Africa”, and it was a Kenyan woman cursing to herself! My guess is that the wind had blown and ever so slightly rattled the roof, but the result was that leaves and debris which were lodged in the rafters let loose and sprinkled all over the table, and her papers. I don’t even think they hit her at all … but it was apparently frustrating enough for her that it warranted a damning of the entire continent. So the buildings here might not be quite as airtight as they are in the States, but that suits me just fine. If that’s the worst that happens, I might even be a little bored :)
In other news, I was thrilled to find that there are a sufficient number of mosques in the town to hear the call to prayer throughout the day, at home or at work. To someone who hasn’t lived near a mosque, this might not seem like a terribly exciting thing, but with a local … is it the Imam that sings the call to prayer or one of his assistants? Someone who knows should comment and set this straight. Anywho, someone, sings the call to prayer over a loud speaker for all in the vicinity to hear, much in the way that churches ring bells in the steeple. I find the call to prayer not only comforting, a great way to tell the time, and in some cases the day of the week (Fridays are particularly busy prayer days!), but also far more personal than a set of bells at the top of a building. The call takes on the persona of the singer behind the microphone. Not every one is of recorded Gregorian chanter status, but that almost makes it better. You can hear the confidence, or nerves in the individual, humanizing his message. The call outside of the hospital is particularly monotone, and tends to drone, but that just makes the stray inflection that he does use sound that much more emphatic. It’s also a nice contrast to the sounds of shrill shrieking that come from the local churches each evening. As one man joked, “demons are very painful to excise.” There is a part of me that would like to witness one of these services to see if it is the spectacle that I imagine, but then there is the rest of me that wants NOTHING to do with them. Hours upon hours of chanting, singing and screaming. This is the sort of revival that American Baptists dream of, and might try to enact once or twice a year, but here it seems to happen in multiple locations on a nightly basis. Oh to have such conviction … and what an interesting evaluation of psychosomatic phenomena.
And finally, Ants, Bees and other creepy crawlies. Not only are there rhinos, elephants, and very tall giraffes, but the insects also seem to be of a much larger variety. If you’ve ever seen a carpenter bee, you know that fuzzy bees in the united states can be very large as well, however, the bigger they are, the less threatening. It might be partly to do with the fact they are unknown, but I have seen some pretty formidable bees here. They are twice the size of carpenter bees, still fuzzy, but also seem to show signs of intelligence. Again, perhaps I am assigning them more credit than is due, but these things even from a distance are not oblivious to humans. One seemed to be checking me out from behind a pillar the other day. As I moved, it changed its angle so as to be able to see me, but gain protection from the obstacle as well. If there’s one thing I don’t want, it’s a large bee, that is smart, but also has the potential to be aggressive. This was in contrast to the 3-4 inch wasp that was buzzing just inches from my face yesterday. That thing seemed to show no intelligence at all and just dopily fly about the room. And then there are the ants.
Most are quite small and some are even harmless. They act very much like ants everywhere else I’ve lived (excluding ants-on-stilts who remain my favorite!), however this is not true for all of the ants here. Here they have Army Ants. I thought I would be afraid of snakes. There are green and black mombas, puff vipers, and cobras here, but they are not in town, most are not this high in elevation, they are not likely to come after me, and certainly not without warning. Most will try to avoid people, otherwise there will not be established roads and paths in their territories. The point is, these are impractical to worry about and I know it. Army Ants on the other hand I’ve already seen here. They don’t seem very imposing to look at them. They form lines and make a path to get food, and protect that food. If you are walking down the road and do not see them, but happen to step on a line of these ants, they climb up your leg, looking for a warm spot to attack. The only way you will be able to get them off of you is apparently by getting naked first. This is not something I am interested in doing. I’m already the weird girl who walks to work when there are plenty of taxis available. I don’t need to be the crazy screaming naked girl who walks home crying. I do remember growing up that my step-father warned me of red ant hills for the same reason, but I came to see that as a wives tale, as it had never happened. Two key differences here are that these ants will apparently come after you if they feel the vibration of your steps, and that they don’t stick to their hills, so you are vulnerable anywhere – I saw them crossing a relatively well traveled walking road and almost stepped on them twice.
If it weren’t for my professor grabbing my arm and stopping me the second time, this is a fate to which I would have already succumb.
If it weren’t for my professor grabbing my arm and stopping me the second time, this is a fate to which I would have already succumb.
So that’s it for the day. More to come on Mosquitoes and Malaria – thank god for friends and toothpaste. No worries Mom, I haven’t contracted it just yet!
(pictures won't load at my current connection, so check back later for pics of a swarm of Army ants and what they look like from a few feet away ... ie. just before you step on them, when you should be paying more attention)
