We Ahh Weening!!!

We all went to lunch today at Dokwani's, one of two local restaurants in Karanda.  This was the first time we had left the mission compound and it was like entering a different world.  Though there is inconsistent power, no air conditioning, and nonpotable water where we are saying, the accomodations are quite nice.  The huts we saw throughout the rest of the village had no running water and no need for power; they had no lights or outlets.  There were small community outhouses and trash was everywhere.  There were a dozen rundown stores in the downtown area, all of which sold the same basic items that you'd see in an American convenience store (soda, bread, toothpate, etc.).  We brought our bottles to exchange (they recycle the bottles here and you can't get a new soda without trading in an existing bottle) and each purchased a new soft drink for 50 cents.

Dokwanis was a small, open hut with tables and chairs under a straw roof.  We waited out in the sun to see if they had enough food for our group.  Lisa Birky looked over and said, "It's goat today.  Is that okay?" There were no choices.  It was goat or nothing, and we accepted.  When we sat down, we were each served a large plate of sadza (ground cornmeal served in some form at every meal in Zimbabwe), relish (a plant called rape that has been sliced into strips), and some part of the goats body.  There was no sliverware; everyone ate with their right hand only (the left hand in Zimbabwe is considered the "wiping" hand and therefore unclean).  We all agreed the dish as a whole was quite tasty and Chance and I concluded that we would be eating there every day if not for the delicious meals prepared from scratch by Kaila and Lisa every day (we've eaten like kings throughout this trip - steak last night). 

This is the end of our fifth consecutive day working on these maria screens.  We now have all of the largest, outer windows in the compound completed, a total of 34, leaving only 12 smaller windows.  These are a little tricky because there are no bars on the windows to use as anchors for the zip ties, which forces us to look for another way to secure them in front of the windows.  The few screens that were there had duck tape holding them in, which wasn't acceptable.  We've settled on using narrow wedges to lock them into place and we'll build those tomorrow.  Today was the first day we saw light at the end of the tunnel.  We realized it would be possible to complete the screening project, and probably a day early, leaving us a full day to relax and get to know the Shona people. 

Occasionally thoughtout the day, John Siamukwari, the African tradesman helping us with the screens looks over as we are at work and says, "Ahh we weening today?" (Are we winning), his way gaging our view of the progress.  We usually chuckle and reply, "Yes, we ahh weening."

When everything seemed like it was going well and that we would be done a day early, we had a scare.  7 of our 12 boxes of staples were missing.  We had used 5 of the boxes liberally, knowing we had plenty to spare.  When we realized we were out and the nearest lumber yard was further than the distance from Ashland to Wichita, we were at a standstill.  We had most of the 12 remaining frames constructed and no way to secure the screens. 

We were relieved when we found that Dr. Roland Stephens, the 80 year old missionary surgeon (who still runs 3 miles, 3 times a week) had a stapler with 1,000 staples.  He gave them to us to finish the project.  Dr. Stephens has been here for decades and is committed to the hospital, the other missionaries and the mission as a whole.  These 1,000 staples, if used properly, will get us through to the end of the project, without much to spare. 

In the words of Mr. Siamukwari (as we call him), "We ahh weening."

We'll check back in tomorrow, hopefully to tell you we are done. 

-Benjamin

(We'd all like to send a shot out to Spot's Lumber, who did such a great job preparing us with the supplies to make the dream of a misquito and snake free living environment for these missionaries a reality.  Thanks Mr. Fast.  You're first class).