Food

I keep asking stupid questions. They are stupid because I should know the answer to them by now. Every time I ask why someone doesn't have something or why they don't do something the answer is “there is no money”. I know there isn't any money here I just forget. I have been living in this community for 3 months now and I still ask this stupid trivial question. Why don't you buy medicine for your dad? “No money”. Why aren't you guys playing volleyball today? “No ball”. Who has the ball? “Its Gone”. Can you buy another one? “Ya if we had money”. Shit. The world really does revolve around money. Well sorta.

These people don't absolutely need a constant source of income to live. They are lucky. They have land with roots and bananas growing in them. I know because it's been what I've been eating for a week straight now. I could have bought some more beans and eggs for the family, but like them I have no money. Not until stipend day that is on the 21rst. Back to the people; They are much more lucky than the poor living in the cities and towns here. When the money runs out there bad things happen. Here, you don't get the medicine you need and there are no luxuries like a new volleyball. It doesn't absolutely mean death unless you really need that medicine at which point the clinic will let you put it on charge.

Walking Home

I walked the path that leads to Solomon's house where I'm staying. With each stomp of my boot squishing fresh mud from each side, I walked slowly as to not get any on my pants. This was of course a loosing battle as the slippery earth found its way onto my body regardless. I walked by the kids playing soccer on the cement pad. The pad looking like it was a future project from years ago never coming to fruition and the kids wearing clothes that you would throw away. Bare feet. Shoes for goals. They asked me to play and I politely declined citing a foot injury bystanders called my name. “Chiro Mutari” over and over again until I wave and even then not stopping the call for my attention. I now know what is like to be famous with camera men trying to get you to wave or look their way. It's fun sometimes, but other times you want them to go away.

As I turned the corner I noticed the women that was previously at my house chatting up my host mom standing in the stream with a net made of natural materials. Her 5 kids huddled around her. This stream is one I cross every day and is more like a trickle than anything. It has been raining though the small stream I know and love turned into a raging stream only a couple days ago making my walk a little more difficult and slightly more wet. The stream was back to its trickle now and so the women stood with her net. I asked what she was doing and she answered “fishing”. Fishing? There is no way fish can live in that little thing. She proved me wrong and brought up a fish about 3 inches long. I asked if she was going to put the fish in a tank or a pond to grow. She kept a straight face and said that it was to eat. It was dinner is what she was telling me. There is no time to grow fish when your hungry I guess. There are small fish farms here but it seems that they are not too popular as the many animals here take the fish.

She had two very small fish in her basket and it didn't look like she would be getting many more. The kids stood and watched and I made a remark somewhere along the lines of “Wow that's great, good luck”. I looked back as I squished mud between the bottom of my boots and wondered if there was any embarrassment involved in what she was doing until I came to the conclusion that everyone here is hurting for food and money and no one would look down on the taking of the sardine sized fish for dinner. Food is food.....