Mud houses and Water towers

Today after a day of unbearably humidity it is raining cats, dogs, mice and fleas. I am in the living room in the house where I am being slightly naughty and plugging my laptop into the solar powered mains when there is no sunlight. Dave is walking past giving me mildly disapproving looks which I am ignoring though I expect a polite request to unplug is coming soon. From here I can see Rosy the cow getting extremely wet in the long grass she is for some reason ignoring. Now the more avid readers of this epic tail of adventure and intrigue will be scratching their heads and frowning and saying to themselves, “I thought the cow was called Zebra, which was a much better name…” and you would be right, on both counts. The cow has been renamed this week from Zebra to Rosy. The only reason given was that Rosy is apparently a better cow name and the cow looks like a Rosy, or so I'm told. I think the cow looks like a zebra so can imagine why I disagree with the rename. If you, like me are feeling anger welling up in your stomach at this injustice and agree with me that the cow should indeed retain its original name then please write a letter of complaint to the management here displaying your sheer disgust.
Apart from the obvious disappointment of the cow being renamed (Imagine the confusion for the poor beast, I think were talking animal cruelty here, lack of proper identity or something…anyway) this has been an interesting week. Tuesday and Thursday were spent as scheduled with Calvary family group. On the Thursday the browns and I were joined by Scott and his friend Jeremy. Both Scott and Jeremy being patriotic Americans and Steve and I proud Brits, before long the conversation descended into a comparison of the two cultures. We discussed everything from the proper use for Mayonnaise (Steve and I regard it as a perfect compliment for any meal where as the Americans would only really use a mayo in a sandwich) to the growing population of fat people in both cultures to the Enigma of which side of the road is really the right (or indeed left) way to go. Friday saw what was called a “manhood day” a title which I think is rather funny for some reason. A possible reason why this tickles me so much is that twinned with the manhood day is a womanhood day and while the women got together and talked, the men went off to build a house. I suppose whoever invented the day decided both genders should go and do what they do best.
I suppose I should move off that shockingly sexist comment and change the subject rather quickly.
The men congregated on the football field by the Dangers house at 7:45. We were told that today we would be building a house for a widow in the village who didn’t have one. There was to be many jobs and it was going to be hard work we were told. Everyone stood around with solemn grimaces and folded arms as if to say to each other and any woman who for any reason might just be looking, “Yup, hard work, excellent, that’s what we like to see…I am a MAN!” After a brief pep talk we started making our way down into the village in search of the site. Dave rode over on his motorbike and I, never wanting to pass up an opportunity to ride on the bike in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing, went with him. We got lost. Eventually we managed to track down the building party. Upon arriving at the site I found three main activities going on. Firstly for reasons I still don’t know to this day a large area of bush was being cleared by thrashing at the grass. Just behind a nearby house a pit was being dug but all the loosened soil was being kept in the center. I later learned that this was the mud that would be used on the walls. Finally there was an area of flat mud with sticks poking out of the ground in regular intervals. These sticks were removed to be replaced by foot deep holes for putting support beams in.
Dave and the two boys went straight to work digging the foot deep holes and I started looking around for something to be done. There was plenty to do but the problem was a lack of tools for everyone to do something useful at the same time. I managed to get my hands on a hoe (much more like a mattock or an axe and really useful for weeding big weeds) and a few moments later found out Scott had gone off and been a hero, finding himself a huge mound of clay perfect for using on the house. I went off to help him doing whatever he was doing and found him digging away at this clay with his hoe. I joined in and did my usual of making little effect for maximum effort. I felt useful however and from that point on I was never without a job. I collected water for the mud, this involved walking down to a stagnant little pond, filling a jerry can until its just a little too heavy and then lugging it back up a hill to where the mud was bring mixed. I also did a bit of mud mixing, this involved shoes coming off and stomping about in the sloppy mud in a style not completely unlike sweaty men pressing wine in France, only stomping in mud doesn’t have the added effect of putting you off wine for a month or so. Once the clay/mud was ready I helped to transport it from where Scott found it to where the other busy beavers had been building the infrastructure for the house.
Once all the main support beams were in place thick bamboo-like canes were put in place at two inch intervals down the beams. Once the canes were all on place and all the mud was transported we started the squishing the mud through the gaps in the canes and filling in any holes until at last there was a wall in place. By the end of the day we had about 50 exhausted and hungry men, about 150 relaxed but for some reason hungry boys who had refused to do any work of any kind, 3 exterior walls up and mudded and all the beams for the roof were in place. A few observations; Breakfast was porridge which filled a certain hole tea would usually fill, it was however served at 1:30pm, please don’t ask me why, neither my stomach, nor I have any clue why. Lunch was served at around 4 and was BBQ pork. It was delicious and I couldn’t get enough of it. However they started preparing and cooking the pork about 5 hours before we ate it so while we worked the smell of delicious pork was wafting over us and making our hungry stomachs growl in anger. There was a certain amount of disappointment in the air because we had all worked a good 9 hours solidly and the house was only half finished. However this Saturday we have arranged to go back there and finish off the building hopefully this time with better timed meal breaks.
There is not a lot more to add to this already mammoth addition to my online diary except to say, briefly, that last Sunday was the thanksgiving celebration at New Hope. I think I said, but neglected to correct myself, that thanksgiving was postponed two weeks ago because a day scholar from the village died in the night of a typhoid infection and it seemed a little inappropriate to have a party the following morning. So all the festivities, including the world premier of my media presentation, took place last Sunday instead of two weeks ago. I got my chance to climb the water tower and film the procession which was just about as fun as it sounds and got some more footage which might or might not be added to the DVD to be sent out, not sure about that yet. I was also glad to see that my presentation went down well, all the villagers saw someone they recognized and events they could remember and applauded when they came up. Being the perfectionist that I am I watched the whole thing back making a mental list of things I should have done differently, but then that can’t be helped…
So that is all for now, I hope you are all well and settling into autumn comfortably. I look forward to seeing you all when I next do and continue to appreciate your prayers and comments.
Dan