Leaning against the sink, she waited for someone to come in the kitchen and teach her the basics of how to prepare a Kenyan breakfast. She really hoped Eli was teasing about the ugali.
4
Before Katie put her head on a pillow at the end of her first full day in Kenya, she had compiled an extensive list of “Notes to Self.” During college she came up with a variety of short reminders whenever she wanted to make sure she didn’t step into the same awkward situation again or fumble and say the wrong thing a second time.
Here in Kenya the note-making seemed essential if she was going to find her rhythm, as Cheryl had suggested the night before. Even calling Eli’s mom “Cheryl” was a different rhythm for Katie and therefore went on her list of notes. Other top reminders included:
•Don’t make fun of any food offered to you. (Or at least wait until you’re by yourself and can crack yourself up with silent jokes about both the names of local favorites as well as the fact that ugali does look like white cement and tastes about the same as one would expect dry cement to taste.)
•Just listen instead of trying to process everything aloud. For instance, attempting to mimic the early-morning birdcalls when you are being introduced to the director of the Brockhurst Conference Center is unnecessary and comes out as an odd little sound you can keep to yourself from now on.
•Slow down. Apparently it’s normal to walk more slowly here and linger a little longer after a meal. You need to calm down and slow down.
Katie rolled on her back in bed and decided to stop with the notes to self for the moment and try to downshift. This first day had kept her in a state of constant surprise. She knew jet lag had to be part of the reason for that. But a bigger part was that nothing was as she had expected. And that was saying a lot, because she had very few expectations.
The family breakfast time included Eli’s dad reading from the Bible and the family praying together. Katie loved it.
She also loved the tea, or “chai,” Cheryl had prepared for them. It was as delicious as the chai she had served the night before and the preparation was an eye-opening experience. First Cheryl boiled two cups of water in a saucepan and added about four teaspoons of loose tea leaves. She then poured in two cups of cold milk and what looked like about an eighth of a cup of raw sugar. Handing Katie the spoon, Cheryl told her to keep stirring the concoction. At just the right moment, Cheryl pulled the saucepan from the heat before it boiled a second time.
Then she poured the steaming beverage through a large sieve that caught the spent tea leaves, and the faintly fragrant mixture was poured into mugs.
“Lots of people like Kenyan chai with cardamom and ginger mixed in,” Cheryl said. “I like it plain, so that’s usually how I fix it.”
Katie took a sip and knew this was going to become her new go-to comfort beverage. It was thick and sweet and certainly helped the not-so-tasty ugali to go down.
Cheryl had explained that she only used a certain type of tea leaves when she made chai. She opened her tea canister again and showed the deep black contents to Katie. “See how finely they’re chopped?”
“It almost looks like ground coffee,” Katie said.
“Another tip is always to shake the canister first or stir the tea up with a dry spoon — just in case some bugs are burrowed in the chai. If the tea moves on its own before you put it in the boiling water, give it a good sift and remove the intruders before using.”
“Got it.” Katie considered adding that tip to her list of notes to self but had a pretty good feeling she wouldn’t forget that one.
The same commonsense spirit of “adjust as you go, and make use of all your resources” was in effect the rest of the day, as Eli and his parents helped to settle Katie in her new digs. She was assigned Room #3 in Building A, located behind the main office. As a newer accommodation, the building was where the single, long-term visitors stayed at Brockhurst.
Her room was in the middle of a stretch of six individual rooms connected by common walls in a long building with a red tile roof. The rock composite construction made her room feel private, secure, and quite cool. She had no heater, but the bed came with two blankets. Under the single window by the front door was a narrow desk with a lamp. Beside her bed was an end table with another lamp, and across from the foot of her bed was a wardrobe-style dresser made of dark wood with engraving along the sides. Katie ran her fingers over the vine carving and admired the craftsmanship that had gone into it. She was impressed. This wasn’t a precut piece of furniture like the bookshelf one of the girls in her dorm had tried to put together last year with a tiny screwdriver and glue.
The best part was that her room had an attached bathroom with a shower. She was used to living in a dorm where the toilets, sinks, and showers were down the hall. It seemed like a luxury to have her own bathroom only a few steps away from her bed.
“And here I thought I was going to be roughing it when I came to Africa,” Katie said when Eli showed the room to her.
“It’s still a jungle out there,” Eli said. “You’ll want to be sure to keep your bathroom window closed at night.”
“Right. Your mom told me about the bugs and how to get them out of the tea.”
“Bugs? I’m talking about keeping the monkeys out of your room.” Katie grinned. “Of course. The monkeys.” She thought he was kidding about the monkeys but couldn’t be sure since Building A backed up to some dense foliage as if the building were nestled on the edge of a forgotten jungle.
After leaving her luggage in her room, Katie and Eli went on a hand-holding, grand tour of the Brockhurst grounds. The conference center was beautifully landscaped and much more expansive than Katie had realized. The high altitude, rainy climate, green grass, and stone cottages spread across the vast conference center made her feel more like she was in an English village than an African locale. It seemed impossible that a monkey would ever find its way to such a place.
Eli stopped at a large, impressive, hand-carved bench that was strategically placed under a shady tree in the middle of a grassy area. “This is my favorite bench,” Eli said.
Katie thought it was cute that he had a favorite bench.
“If you ever can’t find me, try looking here.” He stretched out to demonstrate how it was the perfect length for an afternoon nap and how the armrests had been built at just the right height if you were sitting at the end and holding a book. He smoothed his hand over the well-worn log that formed the perfectly curved backrest.
“A man named Martin made this bench. He was a big man from Belgium with huge hands and a deep love for this place. He taught me a lot about construction and woodwork. Whenever he would announce that he was going to start a new project somewhere on the grounds, I tried to get on the volunteer crew list.”
“I’d like to meet him,” Katie said.
“I’d like you to meet him too.” Eli paused a moment and added, “It’ll be in heaven, though. Not here. He left two years ago. He was eighty-eight and working on a wardrobe for Building A. It could have been the one in your room.”
Katie remembered noticing the carved details running up the wardrobe’s side. Even at a glance when she moved her things in, she knew it was a special piece of furniture.
Eli concluded his thoughts about Martin by saying, “One of the other guys working with him that day told me that one minute Martin was rubbing oil on the finished dresser, and the next minute his body was sort of crumpled on the floor. He said it was as if Martin’s huge spirit rose and left his body in an instant, and all that was left was a pile of skin and bones. And those huge hands of his.”
Katie had never heard anyone talk about a person’s death like that. The raw, elemental atmosphere of this place seemed to evoke unfiltered discussions and responses.
Dinner that night confirmed her impression when they joined the rest of the staff and visitors for simple bowls of vegetable soup and soft dinner rolls in the main dining hall. Direct communication was best. Information wasn’t co
uched in a way to make sure no one was offended. The spirit of the conversations was open, as if all of them were family and could speak freely, even if this was the first time they had met.
After dinner Eli led the way to his second favorite spot at Brockhurst, located above the dining hall. This well-designed lounge area was called the Lion’s Den. At the far end was a private area with sofas in front of an impressive fireplace. At the other end was a nice little café called the Coffee Bar. Eli explained that this was one of the places where both of them would most likely end up helping out.
“Sounds good to me. When do we start?”
“Relax, Katie. Give yourself a chance to settle in.”
“I feel ready to go. You can put me to work. Honest, I’m not tired at all.”
Eli suppressed a grin. “Just wait.”
Katie soon discovered what he meant. By seven o’clock that night she felt as if all her batteries had run out. Here she was in bed at the unheard-of Katie-bedtime-hour of seven thirty, thinking again about the monkeys. She still wasn’t convinced when it came to Eli’s warnings about the occasional brazen primate that found its way through the jungle growth and didn’t hesitate to wedge itself through the bars that covered the bathroom window to ransack a room in search of snacks. Nevertheless, she made sure all her windows were closed before she slipped into bed that first night in her assigned room.
That may have deterred any marauding monkeys, but the closed windows didn’t stop the distinctive, early morning birdcalls from finding their way to Katie’s ears on her second morning in Kenya. They seemed determined to rouse her so that she would get up, pull back the curtains, and discover what the other sound was this morning. It was rain.
A sheet of silver rain splashed against the metal roof and ran in rivulets down the angled walkway. The morning light was dim. Katie’s room was cold. She wished she could make a cup of her new favorite comfort drink. Especially on such a chilly morning.
Katie got up and dressed in several warm layers. She found a baseball cap she’d packed and was glad that at least her head would be covered since she didn’t have an umbrella.
Charging her way uphill to the Lorenzos’ cottage in the downpour, she knocked softly on the door. No one answered. She felt odd trying the doorknob and letting herself in. Cheryl had invited her to come to their cottage when she woke up, but she hadn’t made it clear if they would leave the door unlocked. Katie didn’t know the protocol when it came to letting herself in to use the kitchen.
Rather than knocking louder and risking the possibility of waking everyone, Katie dashed through the rain and climbed the steps to the Coffee Bar above the dining hall.
A wonderful sight greeted her. To the right of the entry, in a well-situated meeting area, a fire was lit in the large hearth. The slender red flames lapped at the stacked, dry logs, filling the area with warmth and a sense of comfort. Facing the stone hearth was a tattered sofa, and someone wearing a knit beanie cap was sitting on the sofa with his head bent.
Katie recognized the beanie and the free-for-all brown hair that tumbled out at the edges. Slipping out of her soaked jacket, Katie took off her baseball cap and shook her rain-kissed hair. The wood floor creaked as she made her way over to the sofa and said, “Hey, Tarzan.”
Eli didn’t turn to look at her.
Katie stepped around to the front of the couch and felt the delicious warmth of the fire. She smiled when she saw why Eli hadn’t responded. His head was dipped because he had fallen asleep in front of the fire with his Bible open in his lap. In the same way he had slept so deeply on the bumpy van ride from the airport, he kept sleeping even after Katie sat beside him and put her legs up next to his on the hassock. She took off her shoes and wiggled her stockinged toes, relishing the warmth coming from the fire.
Katie leaned over to see where Eli had been reading in his Bible. It was open to the book of 1 Thessalonians. She looked closer and saw that he had underlined parts of chapter 3.
“May the Lord make your love increase and overflow for each other … May he strengthen your hearts so that you will be blameless and holy in the presence of our God and Father.”
Katie also noticed that Eli had written something in the margin that looked like it started with a K, but his arm was covering part of it so she couldn’t see what it said. She considered tickling his nose so he would lift his hand to swat away the imagined bug while she caught a glimpse at what he had written.
Did he write my name in the margin beside those verses? Is he praying those verses for us?
Katie leaned back and smiled. It seemed like just about the most romantic thing a guy could ever do, to write her name in the margin of his Bible next to a passage about love increasing and overflowing and God strengthening their hearts.
Katie couldn’t say she remembered ever reading all the way through either 1 or 2 Thessalonians, but she had a feeling they were going to become her new favorite books in the Bible.
Is this what you desire for us, Lord? Are you going to make our love increase and overflow for each other?
She read the underlined portion again. Strengthen our hearts, Father. Make us blameless and holy before you.
Katie drew in the soothing scent of the burning wood and felt as warm inside as she was feeling outside from the delicious fire that had turned her feet toasty. She looked at Eli, secretly wishing she could figure out how to cuddle up to him without being too invasive or interrupting his sleep.
Her snuggle plan was cut short when the door to the lodge opened. It sounded as if a stampede were going on, with everyone stomping feet and speaking in loud voices about this being the place to go for coffee.
Katie glanced at Eli. He had woken up and looked dazed, as if he didn’t remember where he was or why Katie was there beside him.
“Hi,” Katie greeted him.
“Hey.” He looked at her more closely.
“Remember me?”
He grinned and rubbed his right eyelid. “So, what’s going on?”
Katie chuckled softly.
“What?”
“Every time you wake up, you look like you have amnesia.”
Eli kept a straight face. “What’s amnesia? I used to know what it was, but I think I forgot.”
“Oh, well then, let me help you with your memory. My name is Princess Hakuna Matata, and it just so happens I’m the most captivating woman you have ever met.”
“I do remember that.”
“Yes. But wait, there’s more. You have vowed to come to my rescue if the jungle monkeys break into my cottage.”
“Right. It’s all coming back to me now. The monkeys.” He squinted and tilted his head. “Princess Hakuna Matata, huh?”
“Yes. It’s the only Swahili I could think of at the moment.”
Eli pulled his beanie off his head and tried to smooth back his hair, which was pointless now that his hair had grown out and the natural wave pulled his locks every which way. “Your ol’ personality seems to have finally caught up with you. I take it you’re not feeling as skiddish as you were.”
“Have I been skiddish?”
Note: Use of “skiddish” (+ variations) s/b “skittish”! GJ
Eli lowered his chin as if waiting for Katie to answer her own question.
“There’s an explanation for my skiddishness. Over the past few days I have not been sufficiently caffeinated. You can change that all right now. You’re buying, remember?”
“Yes, of course. I remember everything now. You followed me to Africa because of my wealth. All along I was hoping it was because of my charm, but I see how it is.”
“Sorry you had to find out this way,” Katie teased.
Eli closed his Bible and got up. “Come on, Princess Hakuna Matata. Let’s go get caffeinated.” He looked beyond Katie to see the group that had created the stampede. “Oh, good. They’re here. Come on.” He held out his hand, and Katie slipped her hand in his so he could help her to rise from the mushy sofa. She didn’t know why he was
so energized all of a sudden. “Did you talk to any of them yet?” he asked.
“Who? The herd that just entered?”
“Yeah, it’s the group from Rancho Corona. They arrived a little after midnight. My dad and I helped to check them in. They had a great time in the village.”
“This is the group from school that you helped to train? They’re staying here?”
Eli looked at her. “Now who’s the one with amnesia? I know I told you on the plane that they were coming.”
She had forgotten about the group. Katie felt suddenly shy about holding Eli’s hand. Her skiddishness returned and she didn’t know why. They had held hands yesterday when they walked around the conference center, but no one knew her. She wasn’t sure who was in the group from school and if they might know her or Eli. Clearly Eli didn’t have any qualms about letting anyone and everyone know that they were together.
As she and Eli approached the group, Katie recognized three Rancho students, and all three of them happened to be people she liked and trusted. She had gone to part of the first meeting at school for this mission trip because she had hoped Rick would join her at the training so the two of them could go on the trip to Africa. But Rick said he had no interest in ever going to Africa, and that was the end of Katie’s consideration of the trip.
She now realized that she could spend a lot of time comparing the differences between Rick and Eli, or she could let it go. Comparing them wouldn’t accomplish anything. Rick was then; Eli was now. College was then; Africa was now. She was on a good path. There was no need to compare anything or to feel hesitant about being with Eli.
Yet she did feel hesitant. Just a little. The effect of seeing the group of the same students she had been around on campus such a short time ago made her realize how much had changed in less than a week.
“Jambo,” Eli greeted the group.
All eight people in the group turned and greeted Eli with enthusiasm.
“Hey, Katie!” One of the guys came over and gave her a side hug. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
Finally and Forever Page 4