The youth of Kenyatta Market.  These are some of my friends.  They call me “Mister Paul.”  A photographer was passing at the same time I was, so they asked him to take a picture of us.  Most of these guys are fans of Santiago, and a couple of them actually play.  Most of the poses are telling.  Especially the empty bowl and spoon, and the guy smoking.  It is not tobacco.  He offered me some.  If you cannot find me in the photo, I am the oldest guy… oh, and the tallest.

I played another match yesterday.  We played well, but in the end lost 3-2.  The referee was quite partial.  They usually pay the ref 40 shillings (just about $0.50) to ref the match.  20 from each team.  I told him afterward that I thought the other team might have paid 50 shillings.

The other team “Laini Saba” had one really good player, Sele.  So I sat on him the whole match.  If he did not touch the ball, they did not score.  I obviously messed up 3 times, but I was also trying to score.  In the first half we were up 2-1.  In the second half he played as far away from me as possible.

Another friend from the market, Pablo (seriously that is his name), saw me there.  He calls me Pablito, so I knew immediately who was calling me.  After the match I asked him if he lived close to the field.  He said, “Just at this corner, will you come see?”  The match ended early, so I went with him to his place.  His neighbors were shocked, especially Sele, the guy who I had been defending the whole match.  He happened to live in the place right next to Pablo.  The woman across the way could not stop laughing.  The idea of an mzungu coming in to their place was apparently too much for her.  I met Pablo’s wife and son and they served me chai.

Cammy was a bit worried when I did not return until well after dark.  I do not carry a phone to the football matches.  Who knows who will go through your stuff when you are on the field. She said, “If I called someone to say you were missing, they would ask where you were… When I told them Kibera, there would be nothing anyone could do.”  Pablo walked me all the way home though.  He is one of those guys that everyone seems to know.

Good times.