32., 32.1 February 19, 1968, Letters from Barbara to her folks and from Diane to Grandparents Line

32. February 19

Dear Mom and Dad (Line from Barb)

Before I forget another time, Diane’s address is P.O. Box 30035 B.P., Kenya Girls School, Nairobi, Kenya. I know she will be tickled to have a letter from you. I don’t know how many she is writing these days. We didn’t get one this week, so I figured that things are going a little better. When we saw her last weekend, she felt pretty blue about the whole thing, but was on the road to working out a time to practice guitar and piano, so she wouldn’t have to “rest”. Next weekend is their half term so we will take a short overnight trip north of here. Our half term isn’t until the following weekend, so we can’t do anything very lengthy.

Last Wednesday we made a trip to Chukka, about forty miles north of here towards Meru. The Dutch couple were moving to the school there, and Frank took a load of their things up for them. Vicki rode with him and the other kids and I went up with Miss Williams. She decided it was a good excuse to see that part of the country. We left here about 2:30 in her car. Frank had gone on ahead. We arrived at the school in Chukka about 5:00. It is really some road, very mountainous with lots of turns and steep grades, and at least six inches of dust on the road. The country around is greener than here. They get quite a little more rain. The vegetation in the valleys looks more tropical with lots of palms and green ferny things. On top of each ridge it is scrubbier and less green, and most of the grass is dead now. There must have been at least eight different ridges that we crossed with a stream in the valley of each. The road winds up one side, comes down to cross the stream and then winds back up the other side. It would be an impossible road if it were wet. President Kenyatta had traveled up that way on his way to Meru and the road was still lined with remnants of the decorating they had done for him. There was mile after mile of sticks about six feet tall stuck up along the side of the road and vines strung between them with flowers hung on them. Some places there were little bits of cloth or paper tied on the vines. It must have taken many hours to fix all that up.

When we got to the school the Father had just finished taking Vicki and Frank and the Spreijs on a tour of the school and so we all sat down and had tea together I think the Father was a little overcome at so many guests, but he just cut all the cakes in half and we all enjoyed it. It was a Catholic mission school but is now called  Harambee Secondary School. The school is maintained by the local people with the help of the church and without help from the government. The Catholic Fathers still are there and there are three sisters too, but it is no longer officially a mission school. I imagine the Spreijs will like it there. Everyone seemed glad to have them and they were to have a brand new house with plenty of room.

Our electricity is really getting close. The poles are standing in the ground within three miles of the college and the contractors have finished rewiring three houses on the campus. March first is still the date.

We’ve had notice that our second box of sea freight left New York January 26, so we should receive it about the time the power is here. Everyone is looking forward to it like Christmas!

Vicki has received her eight grade books and has really been digging into them. They seem a lot more interesting than the seventh grade, especially the Math. It is the modern approach and the other wasn’t.

Milt has started a new reader, a Reader’s Digest Skill Builder. It has really caught his interest. The stories are interesting enough that he doesn’t worry about how long they are. Amy is coming right along with multiplication tables. I feel like they are doing okay, but where they will be at the end of two years will remain to be seen. At least we are trying.

This week is the end of six months here. I’ll admit that we are still counting the days until we start home. I guess it is terrible never to be satisfied where you are, but then we’ve seen a lot of places we’d never have seen if we’d been satisfied where we were.

Wonder how your weather’s been? It is still dry here. The college cows are giving less and less milk.  Frank says they don't’ give them enough water to drink. They say it’s not enough grass to eat. We’ve been limited to two pints of milk a day, and we used to get six.  Everyday the clouds build a little higher over Mt. Kenya, so I feel sure one of these days it will start to rain. The big rains aren’t supposed to start until March or later. Our garden is doing very well. We water it every day. It is still hard to believe how fast things dry out. Today we had a half cup of strawberries off the patch. We just may have enough for a full sized dessert one of these days. Our second planting of corn is up three inches. Frank planted a row of African corn with it. He’s trying some cross-pollinating. Time for supper. Love, Barb and all

 32.1 February 19

Dear Grandma and Grandpa (Line from Diane)

How’s everything going? Sorry I’m not being original and starting off this letter in an interesting way. People don’t seem to care whether a person is original or not around here. I actually got told off for not writing my essay to the prescribed form. They try to make everybody the same in this place.

The silly things they consider important. On every paper I get back, my teachers say good work but horrible writing. Do you think I write that bad? Well I’m not going to worry about that and I’m not going to change my handwriting either.

I think the worst thing about this school is that the teachers don’t know what they are teaching. I know I could teach American Geography better than my Geography Teacher. The English teacher is so far behind the time it’s pitiful. But that’s kind of being a know-it-all.

The girls are very friendly here. We all endure it together. The only thing they do that I don’t appreciate is that they mimic my American accent. But I just ignore them.

We get exits every two weeks, which isn’t really enough. The weekends that aren’t “exits” are really boring. For that matter so are the classes. I never learn anything new. When the teachers do give us something new, they wear it out before the lesson is finished. They aren’t teachers here, they are tape recorders.

I’m on the school council. I didn’t even have to run for election. The kids in my class just said, “We want Diane.” So I became a council member. I don’t know what good it did. Anything we ask about or wanted changed Miss Barnes, our Principal, said no to. She didn’t even have any good reasons. I tell her our side of the story. Darn one track minded people! The only thing we got done in council was we talked Barnes into formers’ privilege to wear skirts and blouses. I guess I shouldn’t complain, at least we got that. 

The fifth and sixth formers get so many privileges. They can’t treat us all equally, they’ve got to play favorites. It’s just little things, like only the sixth formers can walk on the grass during the week, but all the rest of us can walk on the grass on the weekend. That’s the kind of dumb things these people do. Well, enough of that. It makes me disgusted just to write it.

President Kenyatta’s daughter is in the same dorm as I am. She’s a really nice girl, not stuck up at all.

I haven’t felt homesick very much, just during the last exit. I don’t know what got into me. Well, I’m out of room.  Love, Diane