It’s Tuesday now, back in Mang’u and keen to meet the four Australians from Sydney who arrived on Sunday. They are a family of four (Mother, Father, Daughter and Son). Through family and friends they know James Woodward and after attending a fundraiser in Sydney earlier in the year, for Familia Moja, it was decided that they would visit while on ‘the last family holiday’ to Africa. You all know how terrible I am with names and I’m ashamed I can’t remember all of theirs bar Julian, the son.
After attending the polytechnic for most of the day, where I’ve been spending my time formatting computers, reinstalling software and just generally trying to keep things running smoothly, I start the walk towards home along the way which lies Familia Moja. It’s not uncommon to be trailed by ten to twenty school children for most of the way, some running to catch up to the white man striding along. The walk is mostly spent trying to interact on some level: The children asking me where I’m from, where I’m heading and what’s my name? I, in return, practice my Swahili by asking pretty much the same questions. It’s safe to say their English is better than my attempts at their national tongue.
I get to Familia Moja and meet Julian and his father as we wait for the children to get ready. The Aussies have brought with them some soccer balls, grip balls, skipping ropes and Frisbees. It’s a rare treat for the kids to be able to play during the week so their excitement is at breaking point as we head off to a near by dusty patch in front of a school to play. I spend the rest of the afternoon running round like crazy kicking soccer balls and ducking Frisbees, I even give the skipping rope a try only to be shown up majorly by Julian. His mother and sister soon arrive and we continue to play until we’re called to return for supper. At this point I say goodbye and head home to the farm. They are to leave the next day for a safari and then onto Morocco before returning home.
