March 12th

Tuesday March 12th, 1968
Mombasa, Kenya I saw in yesterday’s paper that President Kenyatta’s daughter has gone to the U.S. to study.  Julie Felix, the British folk singer, has been in Mombasa.  We didn’t see her though.  This morning M.G. went out to the guest house with the contractor to show him what a terrible job his painters did.  He says that he will do it over.  Raju was here for dinner.  I went over to the high school to WMU, but the African women did not come.  I worked some on the books.  After picking up Alan, we came back by the high school and watched the softball game; our team won 27-9.  This morning as M.G. was on his way to school he got a ticket.  The policeman said that he did not obey his signals.  We told him that this was his birthday present.  He got cards from Charlotte and Mary Nell.

Happy Birthday to my Dad! 

I have said it many times before that we in the U.S. have our share of problems.  However, we are still far ahead of whoever is in 2nd place when it comes to opportunity to improve your standard of living.  If this were not the case we would not have to build fences to keep people out of this great land of ours!

Ms. Felix while talented never hit the big time in Kenya.  Her form of folk singing evidently struck no chords with the local population and she went back to Britain slightly more traveled than when she left.

Dad set out to have a “come to Jesus” meeting with the painting contractor today.  It seems that his crew had done a slightly less than exemplary job on the guest house.  Dad should have known by now that it is hard to explain proper painting procedures to people who have just been painting walls for a few years tops.  After all how many huts have you visited that had ever enjoyed a fresh coat of paint.

Mom’s meeting seemed to be a bust so she just tried to redeem the time she had and worked on the station financials.  Then she enjoyed some softball in the presence of my brother.  I am sure she spent most of the time trying to corral him and keep him out of harm’s way.

Dad got an early birthday present today in the form of a traffic ticket.  At this time in Mombasa we did not have stoplights.  The policeman had a raised platform in the middle of the intersection and would direct traffic from that spot.  Dad must have been preoccupied with thoughts of upcoming birthday celebration and missed the signal to go or stop.  Wish I had known about this story a few years ago when I got a ticket and received much grief from my parental unit on the ways of acting like a responsible adult.

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