“What the hell are you doing here?” I blurt out, forgetting my missionary manners. “I mean, heck,” I correct myself.
“Me, mama? You!” he laughs. Then he pantomimes his mission and even activates his weapon for effect, shooting a gaseous bitter cloud in my direction. I hold my breath, fearing that it is DDT or some poisonous derivative thereof. Turns out it is a smoky insect tranquilizer. “Bzzzzzz,” he hisses and whips his free hand around as if swatting at something.
“Bees?” I inquire. “You’re messing with bees?”
He nods his mesh-helmeted head. My silly forehead light has now slid down over both of my eyes but I can still make out through his netting that I am thoroughly entertaining him. “Maamaaaa,” he scolds. “Why are you out at night?”
“I happen to be on my way to David’s house,” I state in defense although I’m sure it only makes me look more foolish.
“Davis?” he asks. All the Kenyans call David, Davis, to avoid confusion because there was already a David on the compound when he arrived. “It is just there, mama.” He gestures to the structure several meters behind me. Like the muzungu that I am, I’d staggered right on past.
“Ah, yes. Well, asanti.” I mumble my chagrined thank you in Swahili as I shakily make my way to “Davis’s” house.
I pound on David’s locked door and as it opens I ask him, “What is up with that guy out there in the Good Humor Ice Cream costume?”
“What is up with you wandering around in the dark?” he reprimands as he ushers me inside.
I hold up my empty water bottle and persist, “Who is that guy and what the hell is he doing? Heck, I mean,” I correct myself again, remembering that David is a pretty godly guy. I am still a little rattled.
“He’s one of the workers here. You probably didn’t recognize him in his beekeeper getup, huh?” David says as he takes my bottle and begins to fill it.
“What bees?”
“Why, the African killer bees in the grove of trees out back. He was harvesting the honey. Nan doesn’t openly advertise that the bees are on the grounds because, well, you can imagine. Their hive isn’t located where any visitors will accidentally come upon it so there isn’t any actual danger to the volunteers. And the workers know it’s there. All the same, we did have a little, um, unfortunate incident not too long ago.”
“Oh Jesus, I mean golly. What happened?” I ask, morbidly curious and happy to stretch out my visit, postponing my long, lame, lost walk home.
“A town drunk came stumbling down the road, tipped over, and then decided just to sleep it off in the grass under the trees. That area didn’t used to be fenced off. It is now. Anyhow, we presume that the bees woke up before he did and stung him to death. We found him in the morning.”
“Shit! Shoot. No, shit!!!” I exclaim. I make David escort me back to the dorm. After shaking out any of the deadly insects that may have taken up residence in my bedding during my absence, I drift off into a fitful sleep muttering, “Snakes and bats and bees, OH MY!”
As promised, Nan had sent me a visitors’ orientation letter several weeks prior to my departure for Kenya. I had the document practically memorized by the time I left, having followed every suggestion to the letter, checking off tasks when they were completed or items when they were purchased. My list looked like a scribbled mess, complete with cartoon doodles in the margins, depicting easily imagined catastrophes. Nevertheless, after arriving in Maseno and spending a few days here, it’s become obvious that the bulk of my preparations were for naught, and I’m not alone in this realization. Visitors are continually complaining about some aspect of their “unpreparedness” and Nan, when she gets wind of it, doesn’t handle it well. A bunch of aimless fussbudgets is the last thing she needs to be worrying about. All the same, those in the know, namely David, inform me that this is an ongoing issue with the mission. So, in my vexation, I determine that the orientation letter needs a serious revision and that I am just the grumbler for the job. David offers to help me and Nan approves, probably relieved to get at least one dismayed dissident off her back.
David and I spend one gloriously productive hour each day for about a week drafting the new orientation letter before submitting the polished version to Nan. Most of the original information is the same, with the omission of some items that have become obsolete, and the addition of others that seem timely. I don’t know how much of it Nan keeps or how much is relegated to the editing floor. I never see a formal copy nor does Nan say a word to me about my draft at any point during my stay. What follows is the final installment of what David and I present to her. My more noteworthy contributions appear in italics for clarification. The editorializing that is not included in the official letter is bracketed and in bold.
WELCOME TO MASENO MISSION CENTER
Dear Volunteers, Visitors, and Guests, [This addition is directed to people like those whom I regularly encounter who seem to just show up and hang around.]
The staff of the Maseno Mission Center welcomes you to help with its many service projects that provide food, medicine, healthcare, education, and spiritual awareness to Kenyans in the greater Maseno area. The following suggestions and information may help you to prepare for this life-changing experience.
LOCATION:
Maseno is situated 22 kilometers from Kisumu, Kenya’s third largest city. [This previously read Kenya’s “Second City,” and was misleading. Mombasa is the second largest city.] Kisumu sits on the shores of Lake Victoria. Maseno’s elevation is approximately 4000 feet above sea level. As we are very near the equator, the temperature is generally warm but not too terribly hot even in the middle of the day, and pleasantly cool in the evenings and early mornings. There is quite a lot of rain from late March to June, and from August to October, but it can rain other months as well.
TRAVEL:
Explore the Internet for bargain flights. [Good Luck.] Tourists abound during summer holidays, so book flights at your earliest convenience. From Nairobi, flights to Kisumu are available on East African Safari Air Express, sometimes listed as Eagle Air, [good to know] and Kenya Airways twice daily on weekdays, with more flights on Fridays and Sundays. The two best bus services are Easy Coach and Akamba. Both will get you to Kisumu in approximately 7 hours, but the early morning Easy Coach will get you all the way to Maseno. [I feel this is important information to include in spite of the fact that few people opt for the bus even though it is a good deal and cheaper than flying. Actually, while I am at the mission, Ian is the only one who chooses not to fly up. Nan neglects to advise him that however he travels, he should NOT plan to arrive in Kisumu after dark as it is very dangerous and no one will come to fetch him at night. Consequently, when he misses the early bus and calls to assure her that he’ll be on the later one, Nan has a certifiable fit. She tells him he’d better find a way to get his butt up there in daylight. He does, by jumping on another bus taking a circuitous route, but arriving in the late afternoon. It is a close call, a less than ideal introduction for poor Ian, and an interesting insight into Nan. So this section should read: Arrive in daylight. NO ONE goes out after dark in Kenya so if you get in late you can just count on fending for yourself overnight in god-forsaken Kisumu.]
Once you deplane in Nairobi, if you do not yet have a visa, get in the line marked Visas and submit $50 with your passport. [I don’t know how I missed a need for clarification here, as this circumstance presented a problem for me when I arrived. Upon deplaning I changed all my money from dollars to shillings at the first Money Exchange window I came to, just past my gate. Then I proceeded to the long Visa line where, when I finally reached the front, the agent told me that I had to pay in dollars. I was required to return to the exchange window to get $50 back in U.S. currency and then go back and get into the line again for my visa. I was assigned an officer with a big gun to escort me as no “going in reverse”