evening with the boys

One of my favorite days in Sepuka during these first few weeks is the one where my (only) friends discovered I had a camera and took me on an incredible adventure, in my back yard. I should mention that this particular group of friends consist entirely of 13-16 year old boys….

I had just gotten back from a trip to town with Elli, my 16 year old neighbor (above, in the red shirt), when all of his friends show up at my house. Elli learned I had a camera earlier in the day when I had to charge the battery in town, and he couldn’t wait to show his friends. I taught Elli how to use it and he started teaching the others how to use it. After a series of mugshots taken in my courtyard against the bright blue wall, they asked if we could go to ____ and take pictures of the ____. Neither of these words were in my kiswahili vocabulary at this point so I really had no idea what I was getting myself into, but I was intrigued so I agreed.

We walked out of our courtyard and around the side of the house, down a path through a cornfield. With visions of Children of the Corn starting to go through my head, the path opened up just in time to cut through a group of enormous boulders. I looked up at the 3 story high rocks, and then glanced behind me at Fabi, Elli’s younger brother, who just nodded his head and said, ‘yup, we’re going up there.’

The boys started running up the side of the first boulder, but Fabi (orange shirt) stayed behind to show me the easier path. There were trees growing on the side, and together with smaller rocks that lined the side getting to the top was no big deal. After stepping over the last crevice, I stood up and did a 360. The view was absolutely breathtaking. The area is mostly flat with gentle, rolling hills and during the (not-so) ‘rainy’ season, corn grew in rows that traced the curve of the land and grass poked out of dusty mounds. From the top I couldn’t believe how far I could see, a man walked along a path in between two farms that seemed miles away, and women lifted buckets on their heads, walking in a single line from the well to the path that connects to the next village. As I kept turning around and around, taking in all views, the boys had started their photo shoot. They were posing on rocks, with the soccer ball, in fighting poses they could have only learned from the generator-powered movie show each night played in the village, there were solo shots and group shots, and even a shot that will make me smile for the rest of my life…

It’s kind of small, but the boy in the far back has one of his arms out of his shirt with a stone cold look on his face, pointing at the ball, the smallest boy is just holding the ball with an equally serious look on his face, and the one in the front looks like he just got to the end of a runway wearing my khanga like this seasons hottest trend.

The boys said there were more, so we climbed down this one, and up the next, one of them lagging behind each time to show me the easy way up. We through around the ball, took pictures, and they were teaching me some new kiswahili words as the hours passed of climbing up and down the boulders. I was on a serious mjusi (these red and blue lizzards that live around the rocks) when I looked up and caught them in this great moment…they were completely silent, perched on this flat space watching the sunset…

I was sitting behind them as the sun set, and tried to imagine being in their shoes; only 3 of them are in school, the others spend their days herding cattle and goats or working on the family farm, one earns money by delivering water jugs to houses using his prized bicycle. They love Manchester United and Jackie Chan, they’ve learned jerry-rig things you couldn’t imagine, and at the end of the day this moment and this laughter keeps carries us all through ‘til tomorrow.

peace.