The "Dick" Effect has become a given on any riding trip that Caleb and his father, Dick, take together. Inevitably, if Dick goes along, they are bound to encounter some kind of hassle--police officers exerting authority, immigration officials harping on technicalities. This past weekend was no exception. Caleb and Dick took a Sunday afternoon ride to Kokoro, a town not far across the Kenyan border. Caleb has a good relationship with the border guards at the Kenyan border, and he often crosses the border a few miles into Kenya with their permission. Someone forgot to inform the police in Kokoro of Caleb's special relationship.
Once in Kokoro, Caleb and Dick were detained by a Kenyan police officer. His command of English being poor and his manner resembling a ranting lunatic, Caleb at one point leaned over to his father and asked quietly, "Is he drunk?" "Drunk", it turns out, is one word the officer did know, and so was none too pleased at the observation. He railed at Dick and Caleb for travelling into Kenya without proper identification and without a letter from the border post granting permission to travel--all wise suggestions, especially in the face of the officer's reasoning--"You could be anyone and we would not know...You could be Al-Qaeda!"
Thankfully, one of the officers and also the village chief--a friendly man named Ezra carrying a tent pole as his official stick--intervened and explained to Caleb and Dick that although their colleague's manner was suspect, all he was trying to say was that next time they come, it'd be a good idea to carry some identification.
Al-Qaeda? Doubtful. Travelling again to Kokoro without identification? Definitely not.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Meeting Obama
I met Obama this morning. He was round, a beautiful caramel brown, wrapped in a pink blanket, wearing a cross necklace around his chubby little neck.
I went to do clinic about 45 minutes from our house and about half-way to the middle of nowhere. Obviously, though, despite being rather far from any local American voting district, Obama fever has travelled the airwaves and someone in Libumket must have a radio.
I went to do clinic about 45 minutes from our house and about half-way to the middle of nowhere. Obviously, though, despite being rather far from any local American voting district, Obama fever has travelled the airwaves and someone in Libumket must have a radio.
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