AFRICAN FRUSTRATIONS

Talk about a loss of a since of control. Yesterday I was waiting at Sebuko for Fr Priscus to pick me up at 5pm. At 7pm as I was sitting in the priests dining and gathering room alone with my packed suitcase ready to take the ½ to 45 min drive back to Ngarenaroibi I had a sense of African time. When Fr arrived he was very sympathetic about me an impatient American having to wait so long. He had been at a family funeral about four hours away (dirt road time) and had a problem with the bearing on his truck and had to sit watching the truck loaded up with large bags of produce and iron reinforcing rods so that nothing would be stolen. He had dropped off the computers that Jay Dunn had donated that needed some tweaking and the place was closed by the time he got there. That meant another two-hour trip back some other day from Ngarenaroibi. I remember when we first moved to Tequesta that most shopping had to be done in West Palm Beach. Moshi is a lot longer drive on the continuously unbelievable African roads. Driving back in the dark on the squishy recently rained on roads caused me to prepare my soul for motor vehicle mishap. God was kind again. I arrived “home” just hoping that prostatitis would not set in from bouncing on the front seat. I felt fortunate to have been able to take hot showers in Sabuko without having to use a bucket and pitcher. Hopefully I can now move on to more interesting topics now that I am over my spoiled American whining.