The guard tipped his hat and replied the same. They turned down a dirt road and walked under a canopy of trees as a chorus of birds greeted the new day with gusto. A woman with a baby slung across her shoulders by a wide piece of colorful fabric came toward them, smiling and making eye contact with them.
“Jambo,” Katie greeted her, feeling like a local.
As they continued to walk, more people from the nearby village appeared on the dirt road headed in both directions. Some of them were carrying bundles of something all wrapped up and balanced on their heads. Others had a child or two in tow and were nudging them forward the way any mother in any culture tries to keep her youngsters from stopping to examine every pebble and crawling bug along the way on a lovely, sunny morning.
Katie soon realized this was the morning commute. The people they passed were on their way to school and work, as most people around the world would be at seven in the morning. The notable difference was that no one was rushing — they all walked at a steady pace. No one was in athletic wear, jogging on the trail or riding an expensive bike to exercise before showering and jumping into an expensive car to dash to work. Here the commute was all the exercise anyone needed.
Katie could see over the side of the trail into a fertile valley where two dozen huts and an uneven assortment of metal-roofed shacks were flanked by even rows of carefully planted gardens. Smoke rose from an outdoor fire pit. A rooster crowed, and Katie noticed two skinny goats in the village that were tied to a post.
“This is so cool,” she said in a low voice.
“You like this?”
“Yes. This is how I pictured Africa. Only hotter and drier with giraffes and zebras running around.”
“I’m glad you said that; it reminded me I’m scheduled to take a group to the giraffe reserve in Nairobi on Friday. I signed you up. Do you want to go?”
“Absolutely.”
“I thought you would. Also, it looks like the tour agency will vacate the new offices by this afternoon. Dad bought some paint, and I let him know we would help him paint tomorrow.”
“Great.”
“I told him we were experienced.”
“Experienced?”
“Yes. Remember when we painted the apartment where Rick and I lived?”
“Oh, yes. How could I forget? Our big decorating debut. Or rather, Nicole’s decorating debut. I wonder how she’s doing with her big project of decorating Rick’s new restaurant.”
“Do you want to call her?” Eli asked.
“I don’t have international service on my cell phone yet. Your dad told me how I can set it up, but I haven’t done it.”
“You can use my phone anytime you want. What’s mine is yours.”
They had let go of hands earlier down the trail. Katie wanted to reach over, take his hand again, and give it a squeeze to say thanks for his generosity. She held back, though, not sure if Eli had let go because it was improper culturally for them to hold hands in public or if it was just easier to walk on the uneven trail without holding hands.
She was fine with just walking side by side. “Have you talked to your dad about his expectations of what you’ll be doing?”
“We talked briefly a few days ago, but my mom joined the conversation, and my dad said it sounded as if she was taking my side. She said she was only trying to help both of us to explore options.”
“It doesn’t seem like you got very far in the decision making.”
“No, we didn’t. I told my dad later that I thought he and I should talk it out, just the two of us.”
“Did he agree to that?”
“Yes and no. He said he had thought about what my mom had brought up in the discussion earlier, and he wanted her to feel that she had a chance to give her input since I’m her son too.”
“Eli, have your parents said anything about me?”
“Plenty.”
Katie gave his arm a tug. “So what have they said?”
“They think you’re wonderful, amazing, and adorable, and they hope you stay forever.”
“Really, really? Is that what they said?”
“Oh, wait. That was what I told them about you. Let me see, what was it they said about you?”
Katie gave his arm a playful swat.
“I remember now. They did say something about you. They said they think you’re wonderful, amazing, and adorable, and they hope you stay forever.”
“Eli, I’m serious. Do they have any unexpressed expectation of what I should be doing?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Your mom is always so nice to me. I’d hate to think that I’m doing something wrong and she’s too kind to tell me. Or that your dad is secretly wishing that I’d sign up to be a security guard or something but he’s not saying so.”
“A security guard?”
“They’re the only ones around here who get to wear uniforms, and I think their uniforms are really nifty.”
“Nifty?” Eli laughed. “Katie, no one wants you to be a security guard, all right?”
“Fine. But if any of those guys donates his uniform to the Sharing Closet, I’m snatching it.”
“We don’t dress up for Halloween here.”
“Who said I was planning to save it for Halloween?”
“Katie?”
“Yes?”
She could feel Eli staring at her profile.
“Nothing.” A hint of laughter was in his tone.
They walked a little farther down the red dirt trail, and Katie said, “Eli?”
“Yes?”
She waited a beat before responding. “Everything.”
Eli laughed again, and Katie couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this happy.
The trail curved upward and took them around a bend. When they made the turn, Katie stopped to draw in her breath. Spread out before them across the curved and rounded hills were acres and acres of tea plants.
“Wow,” she murmured.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Eli stood next to her, admiring the view.
“Amazing isn’t the word. Magnificent is more like it. Eli, look at the light on the green leaves. I’ve seen pictures of tea fields but, wow! The photos never looked this amazing. Look at all those tea plants.”
“I like the way the rows between the plants look like seams. If those narrow gaps weren’t there in those long strips, it would just be a sea of green.”
Katie noticed what Eli was talking about. The tea plants looked as if they were about three or four feet high and were situated close together so that they formed a hedge. But instead of looking like a single hedge that served as a wall, narrow rows had been cut in between the plants to allow harvesters enough space to walk up and down the hillsides and pick the small buds that grew on the top of the tea plants.
“Is it okay if we go down there and walk through the fields?” Katie asked.
“Sure, though one of the pickers might put us to work.”
“Really?”
Eli laughed. “It’s not as exciting as you might think. It’s tedious work. They only pick the top inch or two of the buds and leaves.”
“If I remember, those are called ‘flushes,’ “ Katie said. “And the proper name for the plant is Camellia sinensis. I remember that.”
“Impressive.”
“So is this.” Katie tried to take in the beauty of the fields before her and the way the sunlight was touching the Camellia sinensis leaves, gracing them with what looked like finely spun lace. She stared and stared but still felt she couldn’t take it all in.
“Eli, I have to tell you something.”
He put his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t get this before.”
“Get what?”
“You. This. I know I keep saying how different everything is here, but I’m beginning to understand why you were the one who seemed so different when I met you last year. You somehow managed to stay within this slower rhythm even in crazy California, and I thought you were
… I don’t know … different.”
“Slow?”
“Yes. But not like mentally slow or emotionally challenged. You just lived at a different pace on the inside. I think I’m beginning to understand why it seemed to me that you were never in a hurry.”
“That’s a good observation. Does it seem to you that I’m not in a hurry about us, about our relationship?”
“Yes, I guess. But I’m not in a hurry either.”
“Good. Because we have lots of time.”
“Yes, we do,” Katie agreed.
“Lots and lots of time,” Eli repeated.
Katie’s eyebrows furrowed. Cautiously, she lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. “Eli?”
“Yes?”
“What exactly is your idea of ‘lots of time’?”
When Eli didn’t respond right away, Katie asked again. “I mean, do you define lots of time as meaning a month? A year? A decade?”
“Until what? Until we get married?”
His abrupt conclusion caught her off guard. “Ah, don’t you think we should, like, date first? You know, get to know each other, evaluate how we’re doing, take the next step as it comes?”
“I don’t really see us dating.” Eli looked serious.
“You don’t?”
“No. Dating is a California thing. How are you and I supposed to ‘date’ in Kenya?”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now? Isn’t this a date?” Katie asked.
“No, not to my way of thinking.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s us being us. You know how I told you before that in Kenya it’s about being, not about doing? Well, this is us being us. Together.”
“You’re messin’ with my worldview, Lorenzo.”
“Good.” He took her hand in his, and they walked farther into the fields.
They reached the entry trail to the first row of tea plants and then walked together down the waist-high row. Katie ran the flat palm of her hand over the top of the spring green leaves. The farther she walked, the more surrounded she was on every side with the gorgeous, vibrant green.
She was aware that their banter session had done nothing to clarify where they were in their relationship, and yet she felt settled, calm, and at peace. This wasn’t California. This was Kenya. They weren’t dating. They were going together. Okay, she could live with that.
Remember the peace.
The mysterious words from Pastor Ben came back to her. Was this what he meant? Was she supposed to pay attention to the times when she felt God’s peace? Because she certainly was feeling it now.
“Stand right there.” Eli pulled out his phone. “I’ll take your picture.”
Katie struck a pose, and Eli snapped a picture.
With a grin he said, “You are a woman who is outstanding in her field.”
Katie didn’t catch the joke at first, but when she did, she cracked up. “Nicely played!” She reached into her sweater’s pocket for her phone. “Don’t move. The sun is just right. Say, Camellia sinensis’!”
Eli busted up, and Katie caught an extremely cute shot of him surrounded by the tea plants and with the early morning sun giving him a freshly washed look. She checked the photo on her phone’s screen. Eli had such a great manly look to him with his wayward hair and scruffy, unshaven face.
A slender man with a canvas sack strung diagonally over his shoulder came plodding up the road toward Eli and Katie. He apparently recognized Eli, because he called out a warm greeting that started with “Jambo” but included other words Katie didn’t recognize.
The two men exchanged wide smiles. Eli introduced Katie to Itimu, and he cordially shook her hand. She was startled at how sinewy and rough his hands were.
“How is your mother?” Eli asked.
Itimu replied and asked the same of Eli. He asked about Eli’s father, and Eli asked about his children. This went on for a few minutes as they both took the time to listen attentively to the other’s responses.
Katie joined the conversation and had a lot of questions for Itimu. She wanted to know if the satchel he was wearing was for tea harvesting, and if so, could he show her how it was done?
He handed her the bag, she put it over her shoulder, and then he proceeded to demonstrate how to pick the small top bud and tuck it in the bag. As Katie moved down the row, picking tea, she kept up her flow of questions.
When she asked how long it took him to fill the bag, he replied that he wasn’t sure. He worked until he was done, and then he went home.
Once the tea leaves were stretched out to wilt in the sun, Katie wanted to know how long it took before they were treated in their own particular way to determine if they were to be made into green tea, white tea, oolong, or black tea.
He didn’t know how that part of the process worked.
She asked if the tea plantation raised and picked leaves that produced only one type of tea.
He couldn’t say. He had never asked that question.
Finally, Katie asked, “How long have you been doing this?”
“Since I was eleven.” With that, Itimu unfurled a fascinating description of the growth process of the tea plants. All the while he continued to pick the tea leaf buds and to place the small bits into the satchel. Eli took photos and joined them. For Katie, being in a real tea field picking tea leaves was a dream come true.
From Itimu she learned that the plants can grow into trees as tall as fifty feet high if they aren’t trimmed and cultivated. The best teas grow at elevations of five thousand feet or higher, which is why this part of Kenya was well suited for the crop. He carefully explained how it takes anywhere from four to twelve years before a tea plant bears seed. After that seed takes hold, it can be another three years before the plant bears leaves that are ready for harvest. Itimu knew everything about the bugs, the rains, and the soil. He had a deep respect for the land and for what he did.
Several other workers lumbered toward them with their satchels in place. Itimu kindly requested his satchel from Katie, made his exit, and went to work with his companions.
Katie thought she and Eli were going to head back to Brockhurst, but Eli said, “I have a favorite lookout point. It’s up this way.”
“Of course you do. You have a favorite bench, a favorite spot in front of the fireplace, and now a favorite lookout point.”
She followed as he trekked through a less-traveled section of the tea field where the cinnamon-colored earth was still damp. Their shoes left the first telltale marks that humans were taking this upper road since the last round of rains. The extra effort was worth it. They came onto a grassy knoll that overlooked the whole area. In front of them were the vast tea fields. Katie could see Itimu and his fellow workers in the lower right corner of the fields. In the central portion of the fields, at least two dozen people were at work. No workers occupied the immediate left side of the patch.
“Turn around,” Eli said.
Behind them, through the trees and thick foliage, Katie could see a portion of one of the buildings at Brockhurst. “Wow! It’s like being on top of the world.”
“Wait until I take you to Mount Kenya. Or we could go to Kilimanjaro, if you like.”
Katie remembered Eli saying months ago that he and his father had hiked partway up Kilimanjaro, one of the tallest mountains in the world.
“Will we see elephants, lions, or zebras?” Katie asked.
“I can pretty much guarantee you’ll see some zebras as well as hippos if we go with one of the groups to Lake Naivasha for a day trip. As far as the elephants and lions, we might see some on Mount Kenya, but we’re more likely to see those if we can swing a trip to the Masai Mara.”
“And what is that?”
“It’s a wildlife area to the south. We would have to sign up for a safari and stay overnight in tents. The tour guides would take us around in Jeeps that are specially designed to get into the right places to see the wildlife.”
“I want to see it al
l,” Katie said.
Eli smiled. “I thought you would. One wild animal at a time though. For now, how about if we have some ostrich meatballs for breakfast?”
“That’s good, Lorenzo. Keep going with the clever punch lines. It’s working for you this morning.”
Eli took off his daypack, pulled out a thin blanket he had rolled up, and spread it out on the grass. Katie stood back with a questioning gaze, watching him unload his pack’s contents. He pulled out a thermos and handed it to Katie. Next came two coffee mugs, which Katie held by their handles in her other hand. Eli withdrew a plastic container, something wrapped in waxed paper, and two bananas. He placed those items on the blanket, took the mugs and thermos from Katie, and motioned for her to sit.
“Eli, you made a picnic for us.”
“Yes, I did.”
“That’s so sweet. Well, not sweet. I can’t say I’ve ever thought of anything you’ve done as being sweet, per say. Clever, maybe. No, that’s not the word. Oh, I know. Thoughtful. There, that’s better. You made a picnic for us, and that was so thoughtful.”
Eli reached over and pressed his forefinger to Katie’s lips. “Hush,” he said in a low voice.
A close-lipped smile inched up his mouth in an adorable curve. “Sit down and eat your breakfast, Princess Hakuna Matata.”
Katie sat. She looked at the unopened containers then up at Eli. “Please tell me you were kidding about the ostrich.”
“I don’t kid about ostrich meatballs. One of the guys from the front office went down the hill to Nairobi last night. A restaurant there specializes in exotic game food. I’m sure we’ll go there eventually. The guy knows that ostrich meatballs are my favorite, so he brought some back for me. Here we go.”
Eli opened the plastic container, and Katie peered inside. The four meatballs looked like normal meatballs. She decided to remind herself of that as she took a bite. They were just meatballs. Normal, eat-’em-with-your-spaghetti meatballs.
Trying to keep her expression unchanged, Katie asked, “And what do you have in the other mystery wrapper?”
“Cheese.”
Katie relaxed. Then she asked, “Do I want to know what sort of animal was milked to obtain the cheese in that wrapper? I mean, you wouldn’t try to spring some sort of rhinoceros cheese on me, would you?”
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