Not all is lost

I am stunned and heartbroken today as I think about the hundreds of pictures I've lost.  I just can't re-snap 6 weeks of spontaneous, precious moments.  And there are no camels in Kakamega!  Waaaaaaaaaa!!!

I did capture this gem yesterday though, which softens the blow.  Terry left me in a meeting yesterday at Nakumat.  When I called him to find out where he was, he said he was somewhere near Vagelha's shop.  You can imagine my surprise when I found him at Sally's Beauty Palace. 

Terry's first mani-pedi

A couple of hours later, I received this text message, "This isn't ending."  When he finally got home, I asked how it was.  It was 2 1/2 hours.  Mostly unpleasant.    But, he admits today, his toes have never looked so good!

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First official meeting of WoW Club -- Women of Worth

On another happy note.  Friday marked the first official meeting of the Women of Worth Club of Masinde Muliro University of Science and Technology.  What started as a group of 6 young women who accepted my invitation to meet on a blanket under a tree at my house has grown into the birth of a new club dedicated to empowering women and educating the community about women's rights.  This may very well be the most important thing we started while we were here.  I am so moved by these girls!  Left to right:  Me, Tabitha (Treasurer), Gentrix, Askar (Secretary), Sylvia, Winnie (Founder), Jacqueline, Gloria (Chairlady), and Susan.  Absent:  Faith, Lucinda, Stella. 

They will face some challenges, but the conversation is started and I do believe they will be unstoppable.
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Some things you just can't capture in a photo.

Like the sound of the blood curdling screams we heard last night just before we went to bed.  And the feeling of trying to talk yourself into believing that the voices that followed were of people coming to the rescue.

Like being followed by a little boy not yet two, all the way across the golf course and almost across the busy street, until a kind man picked him up and turned him around.

Like hearing the news blaring at the Golf Hotel about a string of death in Mtwapa, when you were just in Mtwapa a week ago.

Like the unsettling feeling of being asked to assist me with 10 bob by a young boy with a machete grazing his 6 cattle on the side of the road.

And the music in the street, the way the chickens run for joy when I throw my compost in the garbage pile in the corner of our compound, the site of hundreds of children in tattered school uniforms giggling as they pass the mzungu with a look of triumph on their face if we answer Fine, thank you, how are you?