Fishing

"Is this even possible?" I ask, only somewhat under my breath. Martha chuckles. We're lost. There's one - and only one - road from Eldoret to Bungoma. We didn't go the wrong way. Yet we're stopping to ask for directions. Of course I wouldn't have known either way, but I figured that between Faustin, Salome, Pelagie, and our cab driver (who lives in this area), someone ought to have a cursory knowledge of the road. Or at least enough knowledge to get us from one town to the next on the one road between them. We turned around and headed back the other direction. We had gone too far, but we hadn't passed through any town large enough to be Bungoma. yet we didn't go the wrong way from Eldoret. The only explanation I can conceive of turns out to be true. The part of Bungoma we were looking for involves turning off on a side street into the heart of the town. I didn't remember the turn from yesterday, but then again, the first time we made the turn, I was probably asleep, and the second time, it was dark, raining, and we were going 60+ miles per hour. Yet, I was the first one to start recognizing landmarks from our walk to the hotel we didn't stay at. I mentioned to Martha, "I remember that mill from yesterday. The hotel is just up that road on the right." I could have guided us back there if we were trying to get there. But wait a moment. As it turns out, we were trying to get there. Oh well. Another opportunity to be cool slips through my fingers.

We picked up the local pastor and his wife at the hotel, and traveled to the church. Talk about the heart of town. A handful of women were graduating from a literacy program that Salome directs (another one of her many talents/responsibilities that I was unaware of). Women in Bungoma are trained not only to read, but also in the area of micro-finance, so that they can run small businesses (mostly selling produce). The Love of Christ Fellowhip Church in Bungoma is made out of mud. The walls are mud. The floor is mud. The surrounding area is mud. And it rained yesterday. Fortunately, most of it was pretty dry, and the puddles were avoidable. We were a bit late (a combination of Faustin and I having to walk all over Eldoret to find a place to change money, the need to stop and buy Bibles as gifts for the women graduating, and getting lost), but Faustin assured us that "They will wait for us, because we are the master of ceremonies." The little church building was full of mostly women, most of whom have been widowed by AIDS. They were worshipping when we arrived, and the graduation ceremony began soon thereafter. Veronica, the pastor's wife and an instructor for the women, spoke first, followed by Salome. They received their certificates and their bibles, and Faustin closed. Then the kids.

They were multitudinous. Martha and Pelagy put on a puppet show for them while I roamed around taking pictures. Several of the younger ones followed me around, completely ignoring the activities of their peers. Typically, the younger the child, the more likely he or she is to be completely enamored with me. The older the child, up to about 13, the more likely he is to try and stare me down. The setting in Bungoma was what I had in mind when I envisioned the generic small African town. The mud huts in combination with the dirty ground, the haphazard clothing, the frequency of farm animals, and the abundance of children feel like Africa should feel to an American. And yet, in my preconceptions, I never envisioned a graduation ceremony for women who have completed a literacy program. It's just not what comes to mind when you think about rural Africa. But it is what is needed. Perhaps that's part of the problem. When we think about these parts of the world, the first things to come to mind are obvious. They're poor. They have disease. They need food, clothing, and shelter. What is invaluable, however, is the ability to read, and to think for and support themselves. This program not only allows these widowed women to become more established and increase their abilities to provide for themselves and their families, but it also equips them to study the Word of God. That is the ultimate need. You can give a man a fish, and he is fed for a day, or you can teach a man to fish and he is fed for a lifetime. We've been doling out fish for a long time now. Let's listen to Faustin and Salome, and head over there with rods and lures.