i've gotten a little jaded with being treated like a wealthy, money-dropping tourist everywhere i go here and getting cheated out of my money - most of all with the caretaker of my flat. i'm all about helping people out when i can, tipping people a little extra here and there, because hey - they probably need it more than i do. but it's got to be of my own volition. don't nickel-and-dime me, and definitely don't lie to me. once i'm onto you, all bets are off, and all tips are out the window.
things have escalated with my caretaker lately, so this was on my mind today while i was running some reports on the super-slow yehu system. while i waited for different reports to compile, i made up this little ditty.
nyali has a caretaker
alfred is his name.
and in an ideal world he would
treat everyone the same.
mzungus are his favorite breed
(he thinks they have the cash).
if problems come (and come they will)
he gets a bonus stash.
"your water hasn't run for days?
i'll bring a plumber by.
he sure won't fix your water, but
he'll surely bleed you dry."
naive and unsuspecting us -
we paid requested fees
for all things broken that weren't fixed...
then we began to see.
those fees were covered by our rent!
we never had to pay.
so we began to turn him down.
he still harasses. every. day.
his english skills will disappear
just when it suits him best.
his memory's selective too.
when it's put to the test.
i do not mind not blending in
or alfred's nasty scowl.
i do mind each time i'm ripped off.
my sense of justice cries out foul!
and so it goes throughout this land.
by food, or clothes, or souvenier,
or tuk-tuk ride, or services.
tafadali! i live here!!!
HISTORY
A Little History:
Our story begins in Pocatello, Idaho, circa 1972, when the lovely Debby Christensen agreed to a first, though fateful date with admirer, David Croshaw. Long story-short, he bade her follow him, and they went arm-in-arm to the Logan, Utah temple for establishment of an eternal family unit, Generation 1, on May 23 1973.
From their first blissful summer in Salt Lake City, educational pursuits took them to Provo/Orem, Utah, birthplace of Leslie and Rebecca, and to San Francisco/Oakland California, birthplace of Colin and Matt. Then, for establishment of livelihood, expansion of the tribe with Abby and Dana, and for raising/unifying of Generation 2, it was back to the roots in Pocatello for a rewarding sojourn.
In time, driven by a raging, but commonly shared sense of adventure and independence, one-by-one, Generation 2 escaped the homeland to distant regions of the country and the world, each ultimately developing their own tribal expansions by pairing with worthy mates and initiating Generation 3.
Now sensing fulfillment of their purpose in Pocatello, Generation 1 has also left those roots and transplanted to Cascade Idaho, from which base, they anticipate more abundant contact with The Posterity, Generations 2 and 3, in the future. That contact however, awaits fulfillment of a call to LDS missionary service in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, wherein they hope to help the state of the world by sharing the love of Jesus Christ.
So now, including Generation 0 (Grandma and Grandpa Christensen) home base includes Yuma, Arizona, Pocatello, Idaho, Cascade, Idaho, Vancouver, BC, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Spokane, Washington, Boise, Idaho, Los Angeles, California, back to Boise, Idaho, and on and on (Generation 3+) to infinity.
Our Mission Statement:
This is the blog of our eternal family unit. Initiated years ago, it served well as a journal, but even more so, as an archive of our personal interaction. It was a gathering place, a confabulation instrument, a unifying force for four generations of widely dispersed and progressively prolific posterity, and their valued associates. Though it served these purposes well for many years, it eventually took a back seat to new-kids-on-the-block, Facebook, and Instagram, and was sadly forgotten.
We now move to resurrect this blog with an added functional purpose of archiving the missionary experiences of Generation 1, of their movements and activities as they participate with The Gathering of Israel in the land northward. In so doing, we hope that via their own comments and posts, this blog will again serve to gather and unify the posterity and their friends.
As in the past, that the young and vibrant may know the old and tired, that enduring bonds may be fostered and maintained, that experience and encouragement may be openly shared, that posterity may embrace truth, and that hearts may be knit together, we must resist detachment despite our geographic divergence. We shall do so here.
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7 comments:
That Alfred better learn not to cross Abby Lee!
abby, i am so impressed with your poetic skills. i never knew. i do know you pretty well, and this nyali guy has met his match. abby is no cream puff. way to go!! i am sure you still love the majority of kenyan's, though.
ahem...
Clear throat.
There was a girl named Abby
Who never was known to be crabby
Till her internship summer
When she was thought to be dumber
Than a carless professional cabby
ah, two poetesses in the family:)
ok, just reread. alfred is caretaker, nyali is where you live. these are strange new words to me.
haha, yeah - don't mess with me, or else i'll immortalize you in rhetoric on my family's blog. that ought to strike fear into his heart, yeah...
and i do still love most kenyans. they are beautiful, kind people. the toss-up is that in touristy places they go after you for money, and in non-touristy places they stare at you in confusion/fear because they've never seen anything like you. it's a fun balance. mombasa proper is a fairly middle ground. the funniest part to me is that no one thinks we're from the US. they always guess germany or holland.
crystal, that's brilliant. i love limericks!
If it's any consolation, when I was a kid in Pocatello Idaho, many many years ago, I don't remember staring at black people,because we had some of them living here, but I do remember ogling at Asian types, because I had never seen anything like them before. Rude, I know, but I was a kid. So then I went on a mission to Korea where the Asians stared at me. Crazy world.
Dad
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