[I’ve been on the go pretty well since the middle of January: Kenya then New Zealand and Australia. The dust is just starting to settle (and I hope the jet-lag does too!). So many impressions to sort out. Occasionally I’ll write about these travels and their impacts as the mood hits me. Kenya “vignettes” will be about people and situations they’re in. They are a mixture of fancy and reality although the people portrayed are very real and their circumstances are mostly true. But the names will be changed to “protect the innocent”.]

Due to the delays that seem to be inevitable in Africa and the punishing roads needed to get there, we didn’t reach Ndere Island National Park until after 11:00; by this time the sun was overhead, blistering. As an active member of the Matangwe Bird Club, Peter had been looking forward to the outing for several weeks – ever since the mizungu had arrived and had set up the trip with leaders of the club and the school principal. Peter had only been away from the village a few times but never on a new bus like this one. His trips away had not been for pleasure however. They had to do with the pain and weakness in his leg, pain that had started just over a year ago but which had stopped him from being able to walk to school, to chase after the football at recess with the other boys (how he loved football!), or even help his single mother (his father had died a few years before from an illness no one wanted to talk about) gather firewood or draw water from the nearby pond. The doctors he saw diagnosed him with polio – in the place he lived before, a medical clinic hadn’t been available and the cost of the vaccine when he was small had been too much for his family to afford….so they took a chance. Once the diagnosis was made and treatment started he began to recover but he was not hopeful that he would ever be able to kick the football again. The crutch, that he needed to walk, would get in the way.

He had never been in a boat either. He smiled with delight as he clambered into the large motorboat that would take the group out to the island, refusing any help to negotiate the gunwhales – “I can do this…I will do this….myself”. He focused on the fishermen plying the waters of Lake Victora in their old wooden dinghies looking for fish to catch with much-mended nets and wondered what these shapely craft would be like with the sail up, running before the wind. This was all so exciting!

Once the pain in his leg had subsided, he had been devastated by the thought of not playing football, of simply always being a spectator on the sidelines. He needed something to do. He had always liked birds, had watched them in his spare time, marvelled at their colours, enjoyed their chatter and singing, wondered why he saw some in the rainy seasons but not when it was dry and the dust took over. He heard about the bird club when Dan, one of the leaders, spoke to his class about how to use bird guides and binoculars – those magic implements that brought everything up close! He decided he would give it a try and on the next Sunday morning, early (Dan had stressed early), he hobbled to the pond and actually got to help set up a net. It seemed that his crutch, in this group, would be only a minor impediment. And he found that he was good at this stuff: figuring out what the netted birds were from the pictures in the book; getting the binoculars quickly on the ones flying by so he could compare them to the pictures; remembering from one week to the next (after the first involvement he knew this was the thing for him) the birds he had learned in the weeks before. And he liked hanging out with a peer group of similarly-minded students and the camaraderie that the leaders fostered.

But now, at the base of Ndere Island’s long central hill, the trail winding straight up through the tall grass and the sun blazing down, he wondered about his choice…but not for long. “I can do this….I will do this”.

I overtook Peter when the group stopped after a couple of hours to marvel at a herd of zebras in the distance. Despite living in Kenya they had never seen them before! I noticed the sweat beading on his forehead and upper lip – much more so than with the other students who, of course, were used to these conditions. But they didn’t have to hobble along with the aid of a crutch, each step with the right leg a chore. But the sweat was the only clue as to how difficult it had been for him, for on his face was simply a big smile of delight at the sight of these zebras.


These trips conclude with lunch in a restaurant – a treat for the students, many of whom had never had this type of opportunity…or food this good or this plentiful. Peter, laid his crutch down beside his chair and tucked in with gusto: fish, beef stew, stewed greens, ugali (a corn-based staple that takes the place of western potatoes or rice), and, what joy, a cold bottle of Fanta. Life didn’t get much better – he would have so many stories to tell when he got home.

[I greatly admired Peter and his effort – and his skill as a birder. So, as a reward, sort of recognizing his efforts, I gave him a cheap backpack so he could carry his belongings easily without getting in the way of his crutch. I wish you could have seen the look on his face upon receiving it!

Some of you gave me funds to use in any way I saw fit to further this project, which is now 3 years in the running. I used some of it for this outing. Total cost was close to 26,000 Kenyan shillings or around $365.00. Money that I think is well-spent. Thank you!!]