In the wee hours of Saturday morning we had a really impressive thunder & lightning storm and sunrise was totally obscured by massive dark grey thunderclouds. In eager anticipation of a real tropical downpour I ran up and downstairs closing all doors and the window louvers…but alas it passed us by and dumped all that lovely rain on Mombasa Island. :)
Temperatures have been steadily climbing toward the long rains due in April, and we are praying that they actually come this time around. Last night it was 87F degrees with 79% humidity—a very energy draining combination, a challenge to sleeping well and keeping hydrated. But a sincere Thank You to God for the ocean breeze…as well as the invention and availability of electricity and fans!
Many parts of the country are experiencing drought. In the Shimba Hills area, where I lived and worked for 10 years, the crops have failed for the second season due to lack of rain, which means no food for the coming months. Local springs and wells are drying up and people are having to walk farther and farther to find water. Here in Mombasa we are feeling the effects as well, although not as radically as the rural areas. Water delivery is still available but the price is going up as sources are depleted. Some produce is harder to find (like tomatoes) and all fresh produce prices are increasing. Last week I went to Nakumatt (our Safeway) and there were no eggs and no milk—at least that day.
TAIL TALES
One morning early last month I was alone in the base office, sitting at my desk, plugging away at the 2016 data entry backlog. As I hunched over my laptop screen with the pile of receipts and reconciliation forms, I began to sense that I was not alone. I looked up expecting to see one of my co-workers, but instead there was a big baboon standing in the doorway looking at me. For a moment, I was paralyzed, trying to take in what I was seeing but finally I stood up and said “Hey!” At which point he slowly turned away and ambled around the corner of the building. I heard later that he went around into the dining room where Grace was alone feeding Joel & Joy (her 2-year-old twins); where as you can imagine, much screaming ensued. It very rare to see baboons outside a family group and even more rare to see them in the city but this solitary male appeared around the base and our neighborhood off and on for several weeks before disappearing; I assume moving inland in search of food.
Then, another morning last week I was sitting by the little table on my patio, doing Crow Patrol while Meg (my dog) and Izzy (my tomcat) ate their breakfast. Suddenly Izzy stopped eating and was staring intently at a Casuarina tree near the east compound wall. As I got up to see what he was focused on, he abandoned his food, jumped off of the table and charged the tree. A solitary monkey leaped from the tree to the ground and Izzy chased it across the yard and up into a palm tree next to the south wall. For the next 2 hours Izzy and Meg sat under the palm tree watching the monkey go from treetop to treetop looking for a way down. The monkey finally edged his way out to the end of one of the palm fronds that extends over the wall and jumped to safety in the next compound (which has neither dogs nor cats).
THAT’S INCREDIBLE?
Last week I went into town on the pikipiki (motorcycle) as we were on the ferry returning home; the ferry was just a few meters from docking at the empty mainland south exit ramp when the pilot suddenly shifted into reverse and began backing up parallel to the coastline. After several minutes of this, the back end of the ferry swung to the south and bashed into the bank, running us aground on the rocks. Quite a number of the foot passengers jumped over the side and ran up the bank into the matatu stage area while the rest of us were stuck waiting for another ferry to dump its load and come to pull us off. Truly unexplainable and incredible.
