The Camel Whisperer

Family, friends, acquaintances, and accidental visitors:

It's August (as if you didn't already know that). The second term finished in a flurry of activity. With one of our teachers on maternity leave the responsibility of Exams/Curriculum Department fell to me. I was in charge of making sure that exams were set in enough time to be typed and duplicated, that records of work were updated, that a suitable exam time table was created, and that Science practicals (experiments) were organized and successfully conducted. Things actually went pretty smoothly and the practicals took place at our school for the first time in school history (we used to travel to the nearest school - 8 kilometres away, over a river). I wish I could say the results of the exam were encouraging. Sometimes I think that the people reading this and supporting me assume that the work we do here as volunteers is like a movie (Dangerous Minds comes to mind). You know, where the teacher makes the amazing breakthrough were no one was able to before, student's lives are transformed, and they become the future doctors, lawyers, and presidents of the world. There also is some swelling music as their transformation is complete and they thank their teacher for saving them from a life of drugs, poverty, and complacency. In reality 28% of the students at my school got a mean grade of an E for the term. An E means they averaged less than 35% in their classes. Not so great. I wish I could say that after almost 2 years here I've discovered the secret, but alas. Well I have one more term to get it right! That's right I'm down to my last term. Time is drawing nigh.

2007 Maralal International Camel Derby

After school closed I headed West to seek fortune and fame in the above mentioned Camel Derby. But before setting out on my journey I had time for a romantic morning with Eric and the boys at Thomson Falls just outside of Nyahururu.



After seeing the falls we returned to Nyahururu and attempted to find transportation to Maralal, a town in the upper rift valley. No vehicles were willing to leave for Maralal because there had been rains and the road was said to be 'bad'. After some hours of waiting and calling a vehicle showed up that surprisingly carried some other Peace Corps Volunteers and some friendly Brits, a Canadian, and some hip Kenyans. We squeezed in and took off. And then we got stuck in the mud. So we got out and pushed and became unstuck and then got stuck again. And that process continued for a few hours. We were pushing, we were pulling (pulled the bumper off), we were rocking and almost rolling. At times we were in our bare feet up to our knees in mud. It was lovely. It got later and later, but finally after losing the spare tire, changing a flat, and getting almost charged by an elephant we arrived safely, albeit dirty.



The Camel Derby was the next day. This is an annual event that has been happening for the last 15 years or so. It consists of an Amateur race, Semi-Professional race, Professional race, and the Camel-athalon (running, biking, and camel riding). Due to the road situation the field was not as large as past years (I won't tell you the number of participants so you'll be more impressed at my performance). Below you'll see some pictures from the race. You'll notice I was going for a turbaned look, sort of 'Lawrence of Arabia-esque'. Also you'll see my friend Adam falling off his camel spectacularly. Also some of the participants at the starting line (I had the pole position due to my qualifying time), and Eric and I celebrating our successful completion of the race.





Funny thing about camels, they don't really like to be raced. They are more the slow and steady type. You have to plead and beg and encourage and cajole and bribe and threaten them to move faster than a walk. The moment the race started half of the camels started turning the other way. There I am sitting 7 or 8 feet in the air sitting on a blanket and clutching a piece of wood as my camel takes off at a most ungraceful trot. Every time a camel in front of mine slowed down my camel took that as a cue that he could also slow down. As we passed through the town the local people lined the street and encouraged us. It was also at this point that my camel got fed up and decided to abruptly sit down. But he got back up and we finished. The Amateur race was 10 kilometers and I completed it in about one hour, good enough for 6th place. Camel racing is not without its scandals. There was no doping this year but a Semi-Professional racer had entered and won the Amateur race, so I got bumped up to 5th place. Top 5! Still not a podium finish, but alas.

One of the Brits we were with took first and another Peace Corps Volunteer took third. As for the Camel-athalon, our fellow PCV successfully defended his title and is the two time reigning champion. Some of you may wonder how it feels to race a camel. I can say that I received third degree chafing from that ride and had a serious open wound on my behind that smarted every time I sat down. No pain, no gain.

Maralal is also home to the Samburu people who are quite similar to the famous Maasai. Here are some snaps:



Well that's what I've been doing. At the end of the month I'm rafting the Nile and I'd rather not die. Everyone who does it says there's at least one moment when it seems that way. Wish me luck.

By the by, I've noticed that my brother has updated the photo gallery so click on the link to the right to see more! Thanks Brother Dearest.

Happy August!