14JAN2007 "Lazy Sunday at The Shack"

This morning we woke up at 8:30 to the sounds of a very animated church service going on across the creek. We made some coffee in our jetboils with the French press attachment that Jodie gave us for Christmas (Kenyans only drink instant coffee, believe it or not) and sat on the patio to absorb some CHU-URCH! Maybe we will try to check it out in person next week.

Almost as soon as we arrived in Kenya, Suki turned into this mellow Kenyan dog. She hasn’t really barked at any strangers or even tried to lick our faces off once. She did take a flying leap and plant a kiss on my face when we came back home after shopping yesterday. But when we went running on the beach, she came along with us off the leash and she didn’t run up to any of the kids or fishermen, she didn’t bark and she didn’t eat any rotting fish guts. Amazing…maybe it is just the heat.

Today was a pretty lazy day. We drank more coffee, Patrick hung out in his new kikoi (Swahili dress for men, honest), and we read for a while. Then we did yoga under the ceiling fan where Patrick only barely missed getting his fingers taken off at the first knuckle. Then we unpacked and assembled the bikes. Both boxes had been opened and re-taped by the TSA in Dulles. One of the boxes had gotten wet. We carefully chronicled the process with the camera in case of any substantial damage. Patrick was missing one small piece on the top of his stem. My bike had been removed from the box and put back in upside down. They were clearly interested in the beer kit Patrick had stashed in the bottom of my bike box (not HIS box!). They even punched a hole in the side of the (still-sealed) beer kit box. Even before we opened the bike box, we noticed some powder on the ground where it was leaning against the wall and we (actually just Patrick) feared the worst for the beer kit. It looked quite a bit like yeast. But on closer inspection, even though the side of the kit was punctured, none of the sealed bags of yeast, hops or grains was damaged inside. The powder turned out to be coming from an insect infestation in the windowsill just above where the bike was resting. Patrick was VERY relieved…

Suki had her first face-to-face encounter with what we affectionately call the “blue-balled” monkeys (‘nuff said). She ran along the ground following them from tree to tree, barking desperately while the monkeys chattered and scolded and practically spat at her. I told her to watch out because they are known to throw their own feces. Fortunately, Suki walked away unscathed and undecorated.

After we had tested out the newly reassembled bikes, we walked down to the beach for a swim. We got about a third of the way across the creek, when we turned around because we were worried that Suki was getting too tired and wouldn’t have the sense to turn back without us. The water was perfect and we spent some time throwing seedpods for Suki to leap after, sand-balls that she chased and helping her dig big holes in the sand. The music that had wafted across the creek until well after 2 in the morning had started again. Katana said that it was coming from a local club, not frequented by wazungu (generic Swahili term for 'white people').