Update 12--Safari

Before I tell about our safari to the Nakuru Game Park, let me put in a good word for the Mennonite missionaries in Kisumu. Despite their busy lives they treated us like royalty, inviting us for meals and making sure all our needs were met. All of them seem to have this cheerful acceptance of all the deprivations that life in Kenya entails, including driving from the main road to their compound on--dear me, I can't even call it a road--it's a cleared area with bumps and holes and rocks and not anything you would dream of taking a vehicle over in the States. But they have these tough, reinforced 4-wheel-drive vans and take it all in stride.

In fact, I think the young men especially rather enjoy that sort of driving, particularly Jason Peachey, the grinning son of one of the pastors who agreed to drive us to Nakuru to the game park and function as both driver and guide. He asked to take another young man, 16-year-old Daniel Kauffman, (who assured me that no, he didn't write Doctrines of the Bible) so he'd have company on the way back.

So after the boat ride we hurried back to the guest house and packed up and then stripped sheets and swept floors so the busy missionaries wouldn't have to do it, all while the young men waited patiently.

Then they hoisted all our stuff to the top of the van and tied it down, and we were on our way. I had decided to assemble and serve lunch on the way, and Paul had bought big bottles of pop to pour into cups we had along, but we were not far down the road, weaving and jouncing, before we realized this had not been such a good idea.

But we finally ate without too many sandwiches bouncing out of our hands or too many lapfuls of pop.

And well before dark we got to the game park. First you see the huge, shallow, Lake Nakuru, surrounded by thousands of flamingoes and pelicans. South of that are large grasslands, very dry at this time of year, and some forested areas as well. The best way to see animals is simply to drive around and keep your eyes peeled.

We saw a number of rhinos, including the rare black rhino, lots of cape buffalo, with their massive horns and sullen expressions, a few giraffes (my favorite) among the trees, lots of zebras, jackals, several kinds of deer, and wart hogs.

Daniel said, "Whenever a wart hog runs across the equator, his tail goes up."

Yes. Well. Whenever a wart hog runs at all, his tail goes up.

Oh, yes, and we saw a couple of lions, resting in the shade after a feast of whatever carcass that was, dragged into a clump of bushes. Not far away, a jackal tried to sneak in for the leftovers.

It really is an amazing experience to see these National-Geographic sights for yourself.

We got to the Naishi House, one of several guest cabins in the park, before dark and Jason fired up the grill and started barbecuing the large supply of marinated chicken he'd brought along.

Meanwhile a group of cape buffalo assembled at the watering hole not very far off and the two 16-year-old guys decided to run out as close as they dared, waving their arms, to tease the cape buffalo. So they did this, several times, until the buffalo started acting agitated, like they might take off after them, and then they ran back to the lodge, laughing.

The parents did not laugh when they found this out. Cape buffalo are almost as deadly as hippos.

Meanwhile I was ignorant of these shenanigans as I started frying potatoes and the pretty, uniformed park ranger/hostess stopped in and showed us around. Linens here, soap there, propane down in this cupboard.

"We have a big problem with the mouze," she said. "The mouze are hungry and thahsty, it is dry season, so they come inside."

Ooooo-kay. Well, better mouze than snakez.

"And we have dishes and beds only for eight," she said, "and you are nine. Normally we do not take nine."

I thanked her for letting us be an exception.

Later she came by with another setting of dishes and silverware, and I think she liked us, or more specifically Amy and Emily who were helping in the kitchen, because she told me that she has to leave and another ranger would be on call if we needed anything. "I have been working for two weeks, now I will go for four days, to visit my daughtaz." She gestured at the girls and smiled. "Like your daughtaz."

The first mouze of the night scampered across the kitchen soon after. The second one across the bathroom soon after that.

The boys slept in a guest cabin not far away except for Ben who was on the couch. The main cabin had two bedrooms, each with a rustic king size canopy bed with mosquito nets all around plus a twin bed, so the girls were in one room and Paul and I in the other.

A mouse bit Amy's finger during the night, and in the morning a large dead mouse lay in the living room. Except, said the missionary boys, "that's not a mouse, that's a rat."

Everyone but me and Emily left early to go look at the lions again. I made a pot of tea and Emily and I sat on their big bed and sipped tea and through the mosquito nets and windows watched the sun come up and the zebras waiting their turn at the watering hole while the water buffalo helped themselves and the little monkeys clambering all over the barbecue grill. This, we decided, is our style of safari.

Then, as we sat there in luxury, the mosquito net started shaking ominously at the foot of the bed. Emily took a careful look. A big mouse/small rat was under the bed, trying to get out. There wasn't much we could do so we kept drinking tea.

After the others came back we packed up and left and drove around some more, looking for and at animals. Since this was the dry season, it was terribly dusty in the van, even after Paul dug a bathrobe and socks out of his suitcase and stuffed the cracks around the back door of the van. Jenny and Emily spent much of the time with a wet rag over their mouth and nose, trying to filter it out.

So we were very weary when we got to the Mennonite compound at Nakuru that afternoon. It's under the same mission umbrella as the one at Kisumu, and just as welcoming and refreshing.

Everyone else took naps and I did four loads of laundry in the wringer washer on the back porch of our hosts' house, and that in a nutshell tells what it is like to be the mom on a trip like this: you have lots of wonderful experiences, and you make sure everything keeps running smoothly, but you don't have a restful vacation.