Our only source of water!

We found ourselves driving across a desert alongside a thin, meandering line of fig trees. Despite having no road to show us the way, we had arrived in Eleng’ata Enterit, a place you can’t find on the map, in southwestern Kenya. It wasn’t a village; we saw no dwellings.

"The Thomas Estates"

The first and most pressing order of business was to set up tents before nightfall at 6 p.m. Before we could do that, we and our fellow orientees had to clear land among those fig trees and tangled undergrowth. Dave had been very sick for a few days and despite his weakness, he worked hard and, together, we finally pitched our tent.

However, a couple of young single ladies were struggling to clear their underbrush, so Dave helped them, too. My heart ached for him, but somehow God enabled him to keep at it. (If you missed it, click on Strengthening the sick beside streams in the desert.)

Those young ladies seemed comforted by our presence and before long, they called me “Mom.” They named our part of camp the Thomas Estates and since it happened to be on the opposite side of camp from families with children, our young ladies enjoyed calling the Thomas Estates an adults-only community.

That first afternoon we also set up water-filter systems to get rid of microorganisms that cause diarrhea, vomiting, typhoid, and other illnesses.

Back at Lake Naivasha, Brian, our orientation’s director, 

had water barrels trucked up, 

but at Eleng’ata Enterit our water came from our stream, 

a few inches deep and maybe fifteen feet wide. 

Maasai bathed in it, washed their laundry in it, 

and herded cattle through it. 

Other wild animals splashed around in it, too, 

and baboons up in the trees pooped into it. 

That was our only source of water! Can you imagine?!

We set up our gravity-fed filter system with half a dozen red plastic barrels, rubber tubing, and ceramic filters. Those filters, called candles, looked like rolling pins without handles. We immersed them into a barrel of murky water that, in a few minutes, passed through the slightly porous ceramic.

In the process, that filthy water

turned clear and pure,

and it came out through rubber tubing.

What a blessing those water filters were!

(from Chapter 2, Grandma’s Letters from Africa)