August 5: Though entirely unrelated to my project, I thought you might like to hear of some highlights from this past week. Where to begin. There was the raucous funeral procession through the village showcasing a small western-style marching band (with a bugle and big marching band drum - not exactly traditional Kenyan instruments) as well as an entire village of deliriously happy (or at least seeming to be) jumping dancing children, singing as they ran through the streets what I can only assume must have been the "funeral song". This followed by the evangelical style funeral service, heard in our room over the village loud speakers. Lots of personal testimonies, followed by alternating episodes of wailing and frenetic laughter. Your guess is as good as mine on this one.

Also, there was dinner at the home of the EAC's wonderful primary school teacher and his wife, the EAC's cook. They introduced us to their ten cows, two of whom were named "Bush" and "Saddam". My friend and I got a real kick out of that. Their reputation precedes them, I suppose. We ate dinner on the floor of their mud hut, using our hands to scoop up beans with the thick tortilla-like bread that is their staple food here. It was like really being a part of life here - not just the strange "mzungu" (white person) with lots of clothes. It was one of my favorite experiences here so far.

Thursday afternoon, the FFS students assigned me my long-sought Giriama name, "Nyevu". Like most things, this decision required a lot of discussion in Giriama, some laughter, a few approving nods, a little awkwardness, and finally an unanimous agreement. Take note, Westerners, that's how you get things done. Apparently, Nyevu means a mother who gives her baby a bath outside and then it starts to rain, and the baby shivers. I don't really follow, other than the obvious implication of bringing water, which is essentially what I'm trying to do here. This is a good sign, because it expresses a general understanding of what I'm planning to do and what irrigation is. I have been curious as to what the students' level of understanding was, ever since last week when I learned that after a demonstration in the women's health class on how to use condoms (using a wooden handle as an arguably misleading representation) half the women went out and removed the handle from their gardening tools, put a condom on it, and set it beside their beds during sex! Some cultures are just more literal than others, I guess. (Though anyone who's ever seen me cook could witness my own endless struggles with literalism.) You never know what piece of information you choose to skip - taking it obviously for granted - will be the critical pice for understanding. I learn that lesson over and over here.

The pictures are of Takaungu from our rooftop. It's so wonderful here.