Return-Path: Received: from mail.swiftmobile.co.ke (mail.swiftmobile.co.ke [80.240.192.11]) by xserve1.systame.net (8.13.8/8.13.8) with ESMTP id m55EKGVS006436; Thu, 5 Jun 2008 10:20:39 -0400 (EDT) Received: from scanner.ke.celtel.com (unknown [41.223.57.253]) by mail.swiftmobile.co.ke (Postfix) with ESMTP id CD82C8E51F5; Thu, 5 Jun 2008 14:18:54 +0300 (EAT) X-ASG-Debug-ID: 1212664665-690d01610000-tDIqpO X-ASG-Debug-ID: 1212664665-690d01610000-tDIqpO X-ASG-Debug-ID: 1212664665-690d01610000-tDIqpO X-ASG-Debug-ID: 1212664665-690d01610000-tDIqpO X-ASG-Debug-ID: 1212664665-690d01610000-tDIqpO X-ASG-Debug-ID: 1212664665-690d01610000-tDIqpO X-Barracuda-URL: http://41.223.57.253:8000/cgi-bin/mark.cgi X-ASG-Whitelist: Client Received: from [172.20.8.39] (unknown [41.223.57.41]) by scanner.ke.celtel.com (Spam Firewall) with ESMTP id 80F658562C9; Thu, 5 Jun 2008 14:17:46 +0300 (EAT) Received: from [172.20.8.39] ([41.223.57.41]) by scanner.ke.celtel.com with ESMTP id 3xfhiasCFXCGkcmZ; Thu, 05 Jun 2008 14:17:46 +0300 (EAT) Message-ID: <4847CA66.1070806@bellsouth.net> Date: Thu, 05 Jun 2008 14:13:42 +0300 From: Lisa Stewart User-Agent: Thunderbird 2.0.0.14 (Windows/20080421) MIME-Version: 1.0 To: Annabeth , Anne Devine , Barb Letsch , Barbara Borsack , "Stewart, Beth" , Beth Stewart , Carl Flick , ceceyocum@aol.com, "David L. Mercer" , David Mercer , Eden Grace , Ellie Caldwell , "Ericson, Heather & Gordon" , Eve Bailey , Frank & Rosemarie Flores , Gary Arthur , Genevieve Etienne , Grace Blake , hobbyfour@aol.com, Jack Balch , Jack Bradin , Jan Hamilton , JCavasian@aol.com, jjohnston67@aol.com, Joel Cook , John Buchholz , Joyce Cavasian , Joan Carney , karen modell , Kathy Wagenknecht , Lyn Cope , Marc Stewart , Martha Nungesser , Mary Ann Kelley , mary wickes , Michael Caciopoli , Neil Andersen , Nil Wilkins , Page Raebeck , Pat Buchholz , Phoebea Andersen , Richard Liversidge , Rick Wagner , Robert Bryson , Scott Mercer , Serrin Anderson , Shauna Coolican , Sister Brenda Rose Szegedy , sste979133@aol.com, Susan Taylor , Susan Taylor , Sylvia Graves , "'Sylvia Mercer'" , Talia Raebeck , Terri Johns , Tracy H , Joan Atkinson X-ASG-Orig-Subj: Turkana Trip Installment Three Subject: Turkana Trip Installment Three Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="------------020408030203050506090305" X-Barracuda-Connect: UNKNOWN[41.223.57.41] X-Barracuda-Start-Time: 1212664719 X-Barracuda-Virus-Scanned: by Barracuda Spam Firewall at ke.celtel.com X-Spam-Status: No, score=-1.9 required=12.0 tests=BAYES_00,HTML_MESSAGE, SPF_NEUTRAL autolearn=no version=3.2.3 X-Spam-Checker-Version: SpamAssassin 3.2.3 (2007-08-08) on xserve1.systame.net Status: This is a multi-part message in MIME format. --------------020408030203050506090305 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1; format=flowed Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit The rest of the trip was a real vacation right out of a National Geographic centerfold - no meetings, no cell phone connections, no computers all in one setting more exotic than the next. Of course, before we left, Eden and I hit the basket market with great enthusiasm. The Turkana are famous for their baskets. They range from little purses, to trays. breadbaskets and even ones large enough to hold a grown man. Ali Baba must have been a Turkana.. If I had thought I had been in the desert before, it was nothing compared to the _real_ desert. We drove out of Lodwar and went north east toward a small town near Lake Turkana, called Kalikol. We passed hundreds of camels and thousands of goats, all with their herder sitting under a tree nearby. I still don't fathom what they eat.At one place we came to a "water pan", a man made (govt.I think) reservoir of water out in the middle of nowhere. We parked nearby and walked up the dunes so we could look down and see the water. There was a stone path cut into one place and while we were there a herder and a little boy came with a huge herd of goats that raced down the path to get to the water. I got lots of photos - one of a goat in such a rush he was kneeling on his knees to get to the water. It never ceased to amaze me that miles from any sign of life would appear a young man, or a child or a woman fetching water. I had no idea where they came from or where they went. In Kalikol we first went to a Friends womens craft project to pick up some bangles and table mats that we had ordered previously through a Turkana Mission staff member. When we arrived there late morning we learned the women had been waiting for us since 7:00 AM. They were breathtaking! One after another in all their finery - georgious plaid shurkas pulled up over their breasts in deference to us and rows upon rows of beads around their necks that made them look taller and very elegant. The beads are sewn on and looks to me to be very uncomfortable but they say not. They smear Vaseline (grease?) on their skin under the beads to prevent chafing and Peter (the young Turkana mission staff member who traveled with us) said his mother wore them and that they do wash with them and occasionally remove them and then sew them back. Anyway, these were Quaker women who worship at the local village meeting and send a rep to monthly meetings, the board meetings, etc. Wait until you see their photos. In the back of their little center was a square cement structure that was smoking away.They told me they were smoking fish. The Norwegians came a long time ago and got the Turkana started on fish. Prior to that they did not eat fish and today most still eat only goat meat, blood and milk. At one time the Norwegians thought fishing could be a self sustaining industry so they undertook the building of an ice plant. After completion the ice plant never functioned for even one day because they could never bring the temp. in the desert down to freezing. Now, with the African sense of using what you have, the Turkana have turned the plant into a fish-drying building that we saw as we drove by. You can buy dried fish everywhere. Lake Turkana itself is enormous and very very long. Look it up. It goes all the way to Ethiopia. After making our purchases we went off road over a sand track toward the lake to meet the the boat that was to take us to a fishing lodge across an inlet of Lake Turkana and had another puncture on the way. After changing the tire, with the help of the perennial onlookers, we went in search of our boat. It was there by the lakeside but no pilot. We finally found him after driving through the bush to a school and then needed to take him to a compound (straw and wood fence) to pick up his motor. We saw some men building and painting lovely long slender wooden fishing boats, shaped something like a dory but lighter in weight and not as wide. They were beautiful and the smooth glowing natural wood begged to be stroked. You know how I love wood. By the time we got back to the lake, school kids were there fetching water for their mums and some were playing in the water. Jesse and Isaiah playing in the water and our unloading the truck and loading the boat drew a huge crowd. Children seem to gather whenever they see muzungu children. They see lots of whites but seldom white kids. Before leaving for the lodge, Eden and James first had to find an askari who would guard the truck overnight and even that was an adventure. Eden and the askari drove a bit away from the lake and parked where he said he could be with it all night and she was almost back to the lake when another man put up a fuss. It seems she parked in a place where he felt he had proprietary rights so she very agreeably moved the truck. Then we were off. The boat pilot and a friend had a 25hp outboard motor on a metal fishing boat that looked very much like the wooden ones that were being hand made. It was dark when we got to the lodge, about 8:00 pm. The sun rises and sets here at the equator at almost the same time every day - 6:30 am and 6:30 pm. The manager who had made the arrangements with Peter was out of town meeting a prospective buyer. I couldn't see much in the dark but next day learned that the lodge's days of glory for sport fishermen were long gone. The staff their did their best by using the groceries were brought, added some fresh fish (Nile Perch) and served dinner @10:30. We were sleping or close to it but got up to eat since we had not had anything except sodas and water since breakfast in Lodwar. The first room they found for me that had light had a bed that seemed to have been made up years before.It was covered with grime, the sheets were black with dirt and there were bugs crawling about it. I very gingerly picked up my backpack and took my flashlight (torch) in search of Peter. He asked the staff to find me another room, which they did without complaint - clean sheets but no light and no water. Oh well, we make do. I slept with my clothes on and my arms folded on my chest and looked forward to the next leg of our journey. I must say, in spite of the bed, the place was idyllic - almost no people, very quiet except singing from a nearby village, beautiful scenery around the lake, picture postcard sunset, fishermen in the distance, children playing and women with their crafts perched on the deck waiting for us in the morning. I bought some of the Turkana women's beads and one of the men's stools. The boys bought a crocodile claw and a string of colorful beads with a crocodile tooth. After breakfast we packed in our backpacks only what we would need for the next overnight at the beach and the left in the boat back to the opposite shore. We found the truck still safe and sound right where we left it. James and Eden negotiated (the "done" thing in Africa - even for Quakers) a fair price for the boat pilot, who had to stay the night at the lodge, and the askari who watched the truck. The drive to our next stop, Eliye Springs was driving for close to two hours through the desert following no road but only a track that Peter seemed to know very well. This was where he grew up. Again, there were many goats and camels and every now and then a person in traditional attire. Where they stay and how they live still baffles me. - They all wear a shurka. The men always carry their stool and a walking stick in one hand and the women almost always have many many beads. Many men wear two shurkas at a time - one like a short skirt and another over one shoulder, or just one of those. A married woman wears a metal ring over her beads. When we got to Eleye Springs I got the surprise of my life. I had heard tents mentioned but with so much new swirling in my head I seldom ask anything in advance. The place is a beautiful camping resort in the making right on the beach of another side of Lake Turkana. Three lovely spanking clean new tents all set up were awaiting us. There were a table and chairs, bamboo mats in front of each tent and meals served right there. Showers and toilets were clean and functional but quite a long trek away so we sprinkled bushes when possible. The first thing I did was put on my bathing suit and took a bar of soap into the lake for a delicious bath. The night was dreamy looking out from my tent to a spectacular view down the beach and over the lake. I read by flashlight and slept very well even though we had thin mattresses on hard sand. The resort manager said she has an askari watching over us all night so we would feel safe and not be bothered. Both days we had many visits from chickens, goats, camels and women with crafts, although the latter were chased away y the management who want their guests to be left in peace and not annoyed. It was difficult to ignore the pleadings of the mamas who were so anxious for a sale. We celebrated Isaiah's 12th birthday on the beach.I bought him a shurka to how he is now and a man and the Turkana gave him a new name - Ikele, I think. It means something to indicate manhood. They also gave me a new name, Akimat, and a beautiful wide beaded bangle that had to be soaked to get on and now I cannot take it off. Akimat means something like proper old lady. Old lady and old man are terms of respect. It feels good to be so highly respected for one's advanced age. We left reluctantly for Lodwar, at least I did, knowing that we had that long uncomfortable ride across the badlands the following day. Our last night in Lodwar was cozy and it was nice to see the people we already knew. The showers there come from huge water tanks which are warmed by the hot desert sun so hot water heaters are not missed. At the advice of those in the know, Peter and Lomuria another young Turkana man who is active in Quaker activities, went to the police station to arrange for an askari to go with us the next day on the dangerous stretch between Lodwar and Kainuk. The captain told them he was uncomfortable sending us with only one so the following day we traveled with two uniformed policemen who had guns that looked like they might actually work. At that point I had a silent discussion with myself about my Quakerism and the Peace Testimony. I wondered if I my integrity was being compromised by refusing to bear arms but being happy that someone else was willing to do so on my behalf. I'm still working on that one. Anyway, we were ready to give up the intense heat and the kids were ready for their own beds. One askari sat in front, Eden drove, the other askari sat in the back on top of all the luggage abd baskets and we five (James, Lumoria, myself and the two boys) somehow managed to squeeze in the back. I saw three dik dik this time, a rare sight. They are tiny little deer, the size of a small dog. We arrived home in one piece without any more problems except that I seem to have mislaid my bathing suit somewhere - not bad for nine adventure filled days. Hope this finds you all well and happy. I miss you lots. Love and hugs and blessings, Lisa P.S. We have no TV and seldom see a newspaper. I hear from the grapevine that Obama tied up the nomination. True? --------------020408030203050506090305 Content-Type: text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit The rest of the trip was a real vacation right out of a National Geographic centerfold  - no meetings, no cell phone connections, no computers all in one setting more exotic than the next. Of course, before we left, Eden and I hit the basket market with great enthusiasm. The Turkana are famous for their baskets. They range from little purses, to trays. breadbaskets and even ones large enough to hold a grown man. Ali Baba must have been a Turkana..

If I had thought I had been in the desert before, it was nothing compared to the real desert. We drove out of Lodwar and went north east toward a small town near Lake Turkana, called Kalikol. We passed hundreds of camels and thousands of goats, all with their herder sitting under a tree nearby. I still don't fathom what they eat.At one place we came to a "water pan", a man made (govt.I think)  reservoir of water out in the middle of nowhere. We parked nearby and walked up the dunes so we could look down and see the water. There was a stone path cut into one place and while we were there a herder and a little boy came with a huge herd of goats that raced down the path to get to the water. I got lots of photos - one of a goat in such a rush he was kneeling on his knees to get to the water. It never ceased to amaze me that miles from any sign of life would appear a young man, or a child or a woman fetching water. I had no idea where they came from or where they went.

In Kalikol we first went to a Friends womens craft project to pick up some bangles and table mats that we had ordered previously through a Turkana Mission staff member. When we arrived there late morning we learned the women had been waiting for us since 7:00 AM. They were breathtaking! One after another in all their finery - georgious plaid shurkas pulled up over their breasts in deference to us and rows upon rows of beads around their necks that made them look taller and very elegant. The beads are sewn on and looks to me to be very uncomfortable but they say not. They smear Vaseline (grease?) on their skin under the beads to prevent chafing and Peter (the young Turkana mission staff member  who traveled with us) said his mother wore them and that they do wash with them and occasionally remove them and then sew them back. Anyway, these were Quaker women who worship at the local village meeting and send a rep to monthly meetings, the board meetings, etc. Wait until you see their photos.

In the back of their little center was a square cement structure that was smoking away.They told me they were smoking fish. The Norwegians came a long time ago and got the Turkana started on fish. Prior to that they did not eat fish and today most still eat only goat meat, blood and milk. At one time the Norwegians thought fishing could be a self sustaining industry so they undertook the building of an ice plant. After completion the ice plant never functioned for even one day because they could never bring the temp. in the desert down to freezing. Now, with the African sense of using what you have, the Turkana have turned the plant into a fish-drying building that we saw as we drove by. You can buy dried fish everywhere. Lake Turkana itself is enormous and very very long. Look it up. It goes all the way to Ethiopia.

After making our purchases we went off road over a sand track toward the lake to meet the the boat that was to take us to a fishing lodge across an inlet of Lake Turkana and had another puncture on the way. After changing the tire, with the help of the perennial onlookers, we went in search of our boat. It was there by the lakeside but no pilot. We finally found him after driving through the bush to a school and then needed to take him to a compound (straw and wood fence) to pick up his motor. We saw some men building and painting lovely long slender wooden fishing boats, shaped something like a dory but lighter in weight and not as wide. They were beautiful and the smooth glowing  natural wood begged to be stroked. You know how I love wood.

By the time we got back to the lake, school kids were there fetching water for their mums and some were playing in the water. Jesse and Isaiah playing in the water and our unloading the truck and loading the boat drew a huge crowd. Children seem to gather whenever they see muzungu children. They see lots of whites but seldom white kids.
Before leaving for the lodge, Eden and James first had to find an askari who would guard the truck overnight and even that was an adventure. Eden and the askari drove a bit away from the lake and parked where he said he could be with it all night and she was almost back to the lake when another man put up a fuss. It seems she parked in a place where he felt he had proprietary rights so she very agreeably moved the truck. Then we were off. The boat pilot and a friend had a 25hp outboard motor on a metal fishing boat that looked very much like the wooden ones that were being hand made.

It was dark when we got to the lodge, about 8:00 pm. The sun rises and sets here at the equator at almost the same time every day - 6:30 am and 6:30 pm. The manager who had made the arrangements with Peter was out of town meeting a prospective buyer. I couldn't see much in the dark but next day learned that the lodge's days of glory for sport fishermen were long gone. The staff their did their best by using the groceries were brought, added some fresh fish (Nile Perch) and served dinner @10:30. We were sleping or close to it but got up to eat since we had not had anything except sodas and water since breakfast in Lodwar. The first room they found for me that had light had a bed that seemed to have been made up years before.It was covered with grime, the sheets were black with dirt and there were bugs crawling about it. I very gingerly picked up my backpack and took my flashlight (torch) in search of Peter. He asked the staff to find me another room, which they did without complaint - clean sheets but no light and no water. Oh well, we make do. I slept with my clothes on and my arms folded on my chest and looked forward to the next leg of our journey. I must say, in spite of the bed, the place was idyllic - almost no people, very quiet except singing from a nearby village, beautiful scenery around the lake,  picture postcard sunset, fishermen in the distance, children playing and women with their crafts perched on the deck waiting for us in the morning.  I bought some of the Turkana women's beads and one of the men's stools. The boys bought a crocodile claw and a string of colorful beads with a crocodile tooth.

After breakfast we packed in our backpacks only what we would need for the next overnight at the beach and the left in the boat back to the opposite shore. We found the truck still safe and sound right where we left it. James and Eden negotiated (the "done" thing in Africa - even for Quakers) a fair price for the boat pilot,   who had to stay the night at the lodge, and the askari who watched the truck. The drive to our next stop, Eliye Springs was driving for close to two hours through the desert following no road but only a track that Peter seemed to know very well. This was where he grew up. Again, there were many goats and camels and every now and then a person in traditional attire. Where they stay and how they live still baffles me. - They all wear a shurka. The men always carry their stool and a walking stick in one hand and the women almost always have many many beads. Many men wear two shurkas at a time  -  one like a short skirt and another over one shoulder, or just one of those.  A married woman wears a metal ring over her beads.

When we got to Eleye Springs I got the surprise of my life. I had heard tents mentioned but with so much new swirling in my head I seldom ask anything in advance. The place is a beautiful camping resort in the making right on the beach of another side of Lake Turkana. Three lovely spanking clean new tents all set up were awaiting us. There were a table and chairs, bamboo mats in front of each tent and meals served right there. Showers and toilets were clean and functional but quite a long trek away so we sprinkled bushes when possible.  The first thing I did was put on my bathing suit and took a bar of soap into the lake for a delicious bath. The night was dreamy looking out from my tent to a spectacular view down the beach and over the lake. I read by flashlight and slept very well even though we had thin mattresses on hard sand. The resort manager said she has an askari watching over us all night so we would feel safe and not be bothered. Both days we had many visits from chickens, goats, camels and women with crafts, although the latter were chased away y the management who want their guests to be left in peace and not annoyed. It was difficult to ignore the pleadings of the mamas who were so anxious for a sale.

We celebrated Isaiah's 12th birthday on the beach.I bought him a shurka to how he is now and a man and the Turkana gave him a new name - Ikele, I think. It means something to indicate manhood. They also gave me a new name, Akimat, and a beautiful wide beaded bangle that had to be soaked to get on and now I cannot take it off. Akimat means something like proper old lady. Old lady and old man are terms of respect. It feels good to be so highly respected for one's advanced age.

We left reluctantly for Lodwar, at least I did, knowing that we had that long uncomfortable ride across the badlands the following day. Our last night in Lodwar was cozy and it was nice to see the people we already knew. The showers there come from huge water tanks which are warmed by the hot desert sun so hot water heaters are not missed. At the advice of those in the know, Peter and Lomuria another young Turkana man who is active in Quaker activities, went to the police station to arrange for an askari to go with us the next day on the dangerous stretch between Lodwar and Kainuk. The captain told them he was uncomfortable sending us with only one so the following day we traveled with two uniformed policemen who had guns that looked like they might actually work. At that point I had a silent discussion with myself  about my Quakerism and the Peace Testimony. I wondered if I my integrity was being compromised by  refusing to bear arms but being happy that someone else was willing to do so on my behalf. I'm still working on that one.

Anyway, we were ready to give up the intense heat and the kids were ready for their own beds. One askari sat in front, Eden drove, the other askari sat in the back on top of all the luggage abd baskets and we five (James, Lumoria, myself and the two boys) somehow managed to squeeze in the back. I saw three dik dik this time, a rare sight. They are tiny little deer, the size of a small dog. We arrived home in one piece without any more problems except that I seem to have mislaid my bathing suit somewhere  -  not bad for nine adventure filled days.

Hope this finds you all well and happy. I miss you lots. Love and hugs and blessings,
Lisa

P.S. We have no TV and seldom see a newspaper. I hear from the grapevine that Obama tied up the nomination. True?




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