After a delightful Valentine’s evening last night where the 2 girls were seduced by 5 guys and insulted by Tim (Nish: or, ‘romanced’, if you listen to Tim himself), we were ready to tackle the mother of all days.
First the trip from Nakuru to Kisumu, only about 5hrs of the most spine-shattering bus journey you’re likely to imagine. It’s amazing the tires haven’t popped yet. The Kenyans on board told us that when they drink & drive (soft drinks!) on roads like this they pour a little out on the road straight away “for our ancestors” which I think is a lovely idea and saves them from spilling it on themselves too!
We arrived in the afternoon to a school where we were expecting about 300 children, our first huge challenge of the trip. We’d talked about it between ourselves on the bus and each coach had decided what games they were going to do and had planned for about 35 children each.
So there we are, standing in the middle of a big open plain. The Fellowship of the Coaches braced for action when the Armies of Mordor suddenly pour over the horizon. It was like that moment in Jurassic Park, with the same ominous atmosphere of a T-Rex and its thumping footsteps. You can hear them before you see them, the screams excite us all as does the first wave of a hundred children. The waves keep on coming, child after child running at us. Excitement turns to cold sweats, Richard, our brave ring-bearer, rallies the troops by shouting out “forget the plans, just do what you can!”
I’m not sure how we got through the next hour or so, it’s all a bit of a blur. At high altitude and blistering heat, none of us have the energy to match these children, but we all survived, the children had fun and we survived. What an experience…and before you know it we were off to another school 15 minutes later, only 50 girls at that one though, could have done it with our eyes closed.
