Yesterday was another Kenyan first, but not a happy one. The nightwatchman for St. Julie's Center passes away over the weekend and we went to his burial yesterday. It was actually not that different from a US memorial service in content. We got to his home (actually it was the home of his second wife, there was some confusion because he has had three wives) and paid our respects. His coffin (covered in bright red velour) was propped up in his bed frame with one of his widows sitting next to it. After greeting her and the women from St. Julie's singing a Swahili song, we joined the hundreds of other mourners sitting around the yard and listened while a variety of people talked about Samuel. It was mostly people from his church, the African Holy Spirit, but Grace got up and spoke for St. Julie's. Apparently they wanted all of us to greet the crowd, but we didn't understand b/c everything was in Luhya and Swahili. Thank god, I don't think I could have stood in front of that many people and spoken in a language I barely know. After being squeezed on a narrow wooden bench in the encroaching equatorial sun for and hour and a half, we were invited to join the hosts for lunch. There were obviously grades of food people got and most were having tea and ugali, but we were asked into the house for rice, goat and sodas. It was a learning experience, and like so many other times here, I wish I understood the language better. Then I would have known all the nice things people were saying about Samuel. But the truth is that most of it was in Luhya which I don't even try to understand beyond greetings.

Looks like we'll be going to Karungu to visit the other CMMB volunteers Lauren and Kristy for Halloween. Apparently there is a Kenyan style toga party that weekend. We're all really looking forward to it!