“Would you like to bring your boys and come help me level the field on Saturday?”, Mr. Clements asked me.

They weren’t exactly my boys, but the biggie boys were in my dorm at Rethy and Saturday projects were always a good idea. There were lots of ways to make work projects into an activity that they would enjoy and that would accomplish something useful at the same time!

I recalled that when I was a student in the dorm, Mr. Schuit took us out in the dorm truck, the Hespress, to get a load of firewood. I’m quite sure we came back with firewood but being told to chew Bazooka bubble gum, removing all the sugar so it would be sticky enough to patch the radiator, was the highlight.

You see, a sharp stick had passed through the metal grill work and pierced the delicate radiator fins breaking a couple of the small diameter tubes inside. The circulating coolant would leak out the holes until there was nothing remaining to carry away the heat from the cylinders. This would eventually result in serious overheating and possibly extensive damage to the engine.

Chewing the bubblegum was a delicious task, until the sugar ran out. When the gum was getting just right for blowing bubbles, Mr. Schuit collected the sticky pink gobs from each of us. He packed the soft warm patching material into the hole in the radiator from both sides. He removed the radiator cap, poured in all the drinking water we had, and started the trip back to the dorm. He left the cap off not wanting to allow the pressure to build up in the cooling system as the water heated. The boiling water would melt off the patch soon enough. The patch was, I think, successful because I can’t recall having to stop again as we slowly made our way back to Rethy with the firewood.

I fully understood the project Larry, the PE teacher, had proposed we work on together, since he had been working on leveling the playing field for months. Rethy is located in an area where there is very little flat land. Dorm hill had no flat area large enough to make a softball diamond of any size. To have the infield at one level and the outfield at a lower one introduces several levels of skill. When we played softball, the field sloped down just beyond the infield where the short-stop normally stationed himself. Running backwards down the slope to try to catch an infield fly gave a definite advantage to the batter.

To create a level playing field presented a challenge, as it had to be done totally by hand. Larry decided to dig down and move several feet of earth on the high side and spread it out on the low side to bring up that side of the field. The result, increased significantly the flat area where the dorm kids could play games. Those watching the games could sit on the high bank overlooking the infield. The four-foot drop-off at far side of the field, bordering the lower road, defined abruptly the edge of the playing area, and the home-run wall.

A heavy garden hoe was the tool used to dig down to loosen the black top-soil and the red clay subsoil. There were no rocks. The loose dirt was then shoveled into a wheelbarrow to be taken to the far side of the field and dumped. The Lendu men were accustomed to digging, by hand, large corn gardens several acres in size, but none owned shovels or wheelbarrows.

Larry hired several day workers, and though they willingly worked at the job it was soon evident that it would take years to accomplish. The small loads of soft earth were dumped where needed and there leveled, with the garden-hoes. Eventually instead of the wheelbarrows, he began using his Toyota Land Cruiser and trailer. He moved much larger loads but each was still filled and emptied by hand while he was teaching at school. Between classes he came to move the load to park it on the lower side to be emptied. He worked incredibly hard to make progress on his project moving the Toyota when informed by his men that it was ready to be filled or emptied again. The lower half of the field became covered with mounds of dirt to be leveled.

Since I never asked for his instructions, I can only speculate what Larry had in mind when he asked me if I would like to help with my boys. Of course I would!

Immediately I began to think about how to accomplish the task and what we had at the dorm, besides boys. I never thought that the girls might be interested in helping. I did think of the fact that the dorm workmen had the day off and that the wheelbarrows, hoes, and shovels they used to maintain the roads, grounds, and gardens, would not be in use. We could use those tools. The dorm also had a tractor, a small Allis Chalmers model C.

There was a very heavy six by eight-foot assembly made of planks laying on the ground where the workmen killed the cows for the dorm. I’m not sure why it was originally built, but it made a large flat area where Silavano divided out the meat scraps into small piles for each of the workers, after butchering a cow for the dorm. That platform could be used as a drag. We had chains. I had a number of ideas as to the best way to level all those mounds of dirt.

Saturday, before breakfast, I cranked up the old tractor, hauled the chains out of the workmen’s tool shed and hooked up the drag to the tractor. It proved to be well made and didn’t fall apart when dragged out of the weeds. It followed the tractor nicely as I pulled it out from behind the shed to stop in the middle of the road, by the shop, so we could start right after breakfast.

Larry was always at work on the field first thing in the morning, before school. The dorm guys were keen to work as soon as the dishes were done after the meal and they had passed room inspection. It was almost a race to get Saturday morning tasks completed so we could get to work on Larry’s project.

We soon discovered the drag was too light and the tractor too weak to just drive over a pile of the loose dirt and level it. Adding boys to ride on the drag and driving over the edge of the pile helped, but the drag still rode up and over the edge of pile. Soon one of the guys pushed the point of his shovel into the dirt in front of the drag making a tooth to bite into the loose soil. He held the handle vertical while still standing on our flat drag.

The system worked as long as the point wasn’t in too deep levering the handle from his hands forcing him to let go or to be pulled forward over the front edge of the moving drag. Letting go was best as the shovel handle might not break. The shovel would simply flip forward and the drag would pass over it. The guy would hop off, pick up his shovel, run to catch up to the slowly moving drag, hop on, and re-insert his shovel tooth at the front of the drag. We had a working system.

With six shovels digging into the earth as teeth for the flat drag and the boys jumping off, and climbing back on to reset their shovels as necessary, it was working rather well. I expected Larry to show up at any time and compliment us on developing a rather efficient system!  We were getting his job done!

We kept traveling back and forth over the area to be leveled for several hours. A couple of shovel handles broke when the guys held on too long, but we didn’t pull the drag over anybody, even when they fell forward or lost their balance and stepped off in front of the drag.

Eventually the guys slowed down, some were just riding the drag, but the field was actually looking quite good. I began to wonder why Larry hadn’t shown up. It was his project after all. Maybe he wasn’t well, but then he was never sick that I could recall.

The dorm dinner bell began ringing!  Jumping off the drag, the guys left abruptly and ran up to the dorm. I guess they were hungry and there was some sort of penalty for being late to meals! 

Aunt Ellen always rang the bell on time.

I picked up what was left of the tools and drove the tractor and drag back up to the dorm. Silavano would no doubt be making new handles for the shovels on Monday.

By the time I came into the cookhouse the cooks were already eating up the leftovers from the meal that weren’t to be saved to become part of a later meal. Timona opened the oven door and pulled out my dinner with his dry calloused hands. The pie-tins were obviously very hot!  When, with the spoon they supplied, I flipped off the cover pie tin, a cloud of steam reassured me that my meal wasn’t completely dehydrated. I ate my late dinner with the cooks.

Ellen and the cooks were used to my frequent late arrivals for meals.

The Saturday afternoon schedule was running smoothly and by now I wasn’t thinking much about the level field, nor wondering why I hadn’t heard anything from my fellow missionary. I have no idea what the evening activity was but the normally active guys were content and cooperative. It had been a great day.

Sunday was at a slower pace, with the dorm kids sleeping in half an hour. After a special breakfast and Sunday School they went with us to the Swahili church service, usually about two hours in length. Many of the dorm kids came from places where the people spoke Bangala and understood little of what was said but took part in the singing and read their own Bibles during the preaching. Some knew Swahili and may or may not have listened. We required our dorm kids to attend the local church. We felt that our fellowship with the local church was an important part of our testimony.

We had our English Sunday service in the afternoon after rest hour. It was another missionary’s turn to lead the service. Each of us took his turn and though some of us weren’t gifted preachers we shared what we felt God was teaching us.

All the missionaries and their families were there, taking time to visit with each other after the service. I didn’t ask Larry if something was wrong, I didn’t ask if he was upset with me for some reason. I took no time to talk with him and he said nothing to me.

Ellen left church almost immediately to prepare the sandwiches for the evening picnic meal for the kids.

We sang “Praise God from whom all Blessings Flow”, said the blessing, and soon the line of kids disappeared outside with their supper. The dorm parents shared their meal together at a single table and enjoyed some adult conversation until it was time to check on the kids and call them together for evening devotions and stories before sending them down their halls to get ready for bed. It was hard to rush the time in each room as there were always stories shared before we could pray with the kids, say good night, and shut off their light.

I thought again of Larry and wondered if maybe there was a problem in the way I had helped him level the playing field on Saturday. Was it not leveled as he anticipated?

By Monday I was quite sure he was avoiding me. There was no response when I greeted him as I left school after teaching my Math class. He was going to school to teach and we crossed paths. He left the sidewalk to me and took a short-cut across the grass. Something was definitely wrong.

Ellen has always been more sensitive to others than I, so I asked her what she thought might be wrong. “You have to go see him, find out, and apologize.” she said.

“Why, what for?” was my response.

I did go see him and no doubt made some dumb remark that included, “if I…”, when I tried to make things better.

He responded with something about my “riding like a King on that tractor”.

He also said something that was a sort of truce recognizing that neither of us was a jelly-fish.

There was no question that we had different views about how things should be done. His view as to how far the responsibilities of the School Principal extended in the Academy and mine as to how far the Dorm Supervisor’s authority should take priority were quite different.

I firmly believed that dorm life and school life should be kept separate. The term, “two headed monster”, was used by some to describe how Rethy Academy was organized.

Whenever there was a joint activity of some sort the question as to who was in charge could easily arise.

When asked to help level the field used by the school for organized competition between the Mbogo and Tembo teams but also used by the dorm for casual play time who was in charge? Larry initiated the project and I took over the day I helped. Looking back I now recognize that the helper should have gotten instructions first.