Boys Will Be Boys

The small light-blue pick up turned left off the Thika-Mwingi road headed for Mavoloni. The scenery and expansive natural vegetation was refreshing, and I wished the ride would not end. We were now on a dirt road having left the tarmac behind.

The natural vegetation soon turned into beautiful coffee plantations, extending every which way in spectacular formation; like someone used a geometry set to ensure the trees were planted in straight lines that then formed into triangular or circular patterns, depending on where one stood.

All too soon the imposing farmhouse came into view and we had reached our destination. My friends and I had been invited by a friend for a weekend out in the fresh country air. We would have fun here, that was for sure. And the place did not disappoint.

The following day three of us, me, the host and one other guy made our way to the river that snaked its way through the plantation at the valley below. It was a big river, complete with its own hydropower plant. My heart had that warm feeling I get when I am at one with the world. I love water, and the more natural the better. I loved watching the river flow by. But the boys had more ideas than just watching the water flow.

Just next to the power plant was a jutting mass of rock that formed into a steep slope separating the power plant from the area to its right. I had no idea what lay above it but I suspected it was just a bit of land leading into the river. If only!

Within minutes the boys were creeping up that rock and into the unknown beyond – well it was unknown to me. ‘Aren’t you coming?’ they called out to me. ‘To where?’ I inquired, ever the cautious one and the only girl in this team. ‘Come up, you will love it,’ they insisted.

Never one to shy away from a challenge, especially one as adventurous as this, I gave in and started up the rock. After all, my dear companions could not possibly lead me into any danger? Of course not: Except for one thing, they were boys and their perception of danger was markedly different from mine.

I had not considered just how difficult it would be to climb that rock. It was considerably smooth with very few hand and foot holds. I worked my way through slowly, precariously. By this time the boys were already up and urging me on.

Soon the climb became too laborious and I realized this just was not a task for me. I resolved to climb back down, but what do you know, it was like being in a bottleneck – easy to go in, very difficult to get out. The climb down proved even more difficult and dangerous so I abandoned it, now very aware I had been set up. ‘You can do it,’ my two cheerleaders urged me on, and since I had no choice anyway, I struggled my way till the top of the rock…. And then my jaw simply dropped!

Stretching there before me for about 50 meters was a mass of water collected into rectangular pools, separated by walls not wider than one foot each. Whichever way I looked was water, and the only place for me to put my foot was the one-foot-wide concrete walls separating the pools and the river. As in the only way to avoid plunging into one of the pools, or the river to the left, was to walk the 50 meters on these narrow footpaths!

By now the boys had already walked briskly on these narrow death paths and were seated happily and safely on a jetty that went into the river, having made it onto the dry land beyond these little paddocks (pools).

I took in the horror and implication of the scenery before me and my eyes welled up in tears. I would go back down the slope - it was the only way. But I had already established going down that slope was a no no. You could go up, you couldn’t safely go down; so I abandoned the idea and looked around terrified, wondering why my darling friends had chosen for me a death of water. And now I burst out crying….

Suddenly the boys went very quiet. They stopped smiling, stopped urging me on, and seemed to realise the gravity of the situation ahead. I was suspended atop a rock, the only way to dry land a one-foot path with water and a raging river on either side, and I was in a panic. (Did I mention this was the point at which the river turned into a waterfall in order to turn the power turbines below?) Whichever way you looked at it, this was indeed a dangerous situation for me and whoever dared to come to my rescue. If I held on to them and panicked, we could both plunge into that river…down the waterfall…

The boys were at a loss for words. I think at this point they felt stupid and very embarrassed. How could they put me in that position? Did they not realize I was a girl and living on the edge was not in my genetic make-up? Well they had to do something fast. So the host stood up and sheepishly came for me, trying to soothe and calm me down. He took hold of my hand and, as gently as he could, led me to safety on the other side.

My relief, and theirs, was tangible. They apologized profusely, and I think they learnt their lesson; leave this kind of scouting to boys. And if you ask girls to join in, at least let them know what to expect.

See, no one told me what was on the other side of that rock, until I was standing on top of it – oh dear!

The rest of my stay in Mavoloni was fun and not a hint of danger. My dear friends meant only well, but their boyhood got in the way… Yeah, some from Venus, others from Mars for sure!

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