The Simojokis are leaving

Just like a London bus, you wait two weeks for us to post something, and then three posts turn up at the same time (well, ish).  I wonder if it has any connection to us watching the last episope of 24, series 1 yesterday.

Once again, much time has been spent relaxing, although there have been the occasional surrealities thrown in.

The first occured on Wednesday. We finally managed to source instruments from Dick Moss, who has been living in Kenya for the last 40 years, but is still very British. In his time here he wrote the Nairobi A to Z, and has just finished writing a history of the Nairobi Orchestra. In his spare time he seems to collect musical instruments as we had several to choose from.  Upon turning up at the Orchestra, we found that other people had also acquired instruments for us. (Ed had 3 trumpets to choose from!) The rehersal was fun, with a tea break in the middle, and the other players were tolerant of Ed's split notes and very welcoming. For Jo the experience was a little more traumatic. It turned out that the three other violin players who turned up were not very confident and so Jo ended being the only first violin player. Not quite what you expect when you come to Kenya to do voluntary work - to lead the Nairobi Orchestra! She is secretly praying that more violin players turn up before the concert on Sunday.

Saturday was a kind of adventure.  We awoke to gunfire, as one does, before popping down for a leisurely breakfast. The body count turned out to be three, with one wounded.  It was cold and drizzly, so well wrapped up (of course by the time we arrived it was boiling hot, so we swiftly shed the extra layers) we proceeded to hop into the car with the May family, before going to a Scandinavian Christmas market.  Okay, not as wierd as it sounds, Tiina May is Finnish, and there is a Swedish school in Nairobi. Basically, the Norwegians miss their rotting herring, and this is the result. A good time was had by all, especially when we got to be crocodiles (mumbas) at the bottom of the slide, and grabbed unsuspecting children.  Weirdly, having only been here for a month, Joanna seems to know half the Scandinavians here. 

An other adventure was trying to park the car. The Kenyans seem to enjoy digging big pits in front of the car parking spaces, so fun was had parking, before giggling at later parkers. (Many people would try it on, get a bit stuck, and then reverse out. One has to wonder why they  bother with 4x4's! Oh yes, it's not because of the off roading but because of the Matatus, which are lethal minibuses, with slogans like 'with God all things are possible' emblazoned on the side).

Anyway, home we went, to a bit more relaxing, only to find a big spider on the floor in our suite.  The problem was that the lightbulb in the room had gone, and the spider was hiding in shadows, and we couldn't quite be sure what it was. All the time we were bigging it up in our conversations and minds, until soon we were both in a blue funk in the opposite corner of the room. I am sure that you too would hide from an 8 foot spider.  And this is where Karine comes in.  Karine is the daughter of the Bishop of the DRC, and she is staying in the compound whilst she learns English.  Upon being questioned, 'what do we do?',  this Amazon replied 'Kill it', before promptly turning the tarantula into a flatula with Ed's shoe.

Sunday was Anssi and Marjas' last Sunday here before they return to Finland, and so a big lunch was organised, although I believe that everyone was suprised about how many people actually came (we ran out of plates, mugs, cutlery etc, but not food, phew). All through church people were arriving, until, by the end of the service people were seated on benches outside. After chuch, we had a general chat before tucking into lunch, and then speeches. Every one wanted to chip in here, and you got a real sense that they will be sorely missed, having been here for twenty years.  A group of Somali refuges had prepared a song, sadly in Swahili (I think) so we didn't understand. Anssi has done a lot for Somali Christians over the years (they have had a very tough time), and I think that beneath the humerous exterior he is a truly brave (or mad?) man (we heard that he is still remembered for opening a church in Sudan whilst all the fighting was at it's height, not that Marja is much better, she went to Mogadishu at a similar time).  Whilst the cake was yummy, it would take an awful lot of them to equal one Anssi or Marja.