Stormy Weather

Let me begin the story of a few nights ago, by saying that right now I am safe and well, the sun is shining, my tent is providing cozy shade, and the world is a lot greener than it was yesterday. I want to give you that happy ending in advance of telling my adventure story, since I do hate to worry those of you back home.

The long awaited rain arrived yesterday afternoon. Some of our surrounding sub-villages had reached the point of desperation and had gone to give goats to the 'witchdoctor' in the hopes of moving things along. Perhaps that had some influence. It was no ordinary rain. People are saying that yesterday will become part of local history, as there has never been such a furious rain storm here.

I like to think that Lordidi, the 13 year old Maasai boy who was with us throughout the adventure, will someday tell his grandchildren about that day. The day of the storm. For him, the first time he ever slept, at least part of the night, in a 'real' house, in the company of 4 wazungu to boot! He will tell them about the endless rounds of lightning and thunder. He will tell them how we were all driving in the village in the trusty ancient Land Cruiser when suddenly the sand road we were on turned into a raging river. How we slid from the road and ended up mired with the vehicle on a 45 degree angle. How the water was swirling right up to the windows on his side. How we called for help (thank goodness for cell phones) and despite mighty efforts by all who came out to assist, couldn't get the vehicle out, even after the river subsided and once again the road became a road. How Corey, trying to scope out our situation in the pelting rain and darkness, illuminated only by a headlamp and lightning, managed to save a young boy who was desperate to get home, even though that meant crossing the waters that had filled the gully on his road home, and would have swept the wee fellow away. How hours later, we ended up at the LOOCIP guest house (where I lived last year) and managed to round up blankets and sheets and settle ourselves in for a reasonable rest of the night's fitful sleep. How this morning we learned of how many goats had died at the nearby bomas, either from drowning or simply from exposure to the night-long driving rain. How someone carried a dead bushbuck down from the hillside. How a tractor finally managed to pull our vehicle free from the mud. How, when we returned to camp mid-morning, Jotu's tent floor was covered in mud and water (thank goodness I'd detected a bit of leakage earlier in the evening, and had moved all the gear that usually lives under my beds to higher and drier locations).

His grandchildren will listen with wide eyes.