My last week in Kenya prompted
a wide range of emotions when I realized my two month stay was coming to a
close. I decided to make the most of it by paying more attention to the things
I would miss like Dinah’s chai, teaching the boys Spanish at the dining room
table, Ethiopian food with Mim and Aimee, runs in Karura Forest, playing scrabble
on Sundays with Sammy and Kennedy and going on walks in the evening around our
neighborhood. Life is so much simpler in places like Kenya and I knew that was one
of the reasons I would miss it most.
The Friday before I left, my
friend Andrew called and we decided to grab dinner at Habesha. I hadn’t seen
him in fourteen years and enjoyed the time we had to catch up on life. He is
now a safari guide in Masai Mara, which is probably every adventurous boy’s
dream. We spent a good amount of time talking about our professions which I found
very similar—he works with wildlife and so do I. That of course is strictly a comment made in
jest and I think almost any teacher would agree that sometimes that’s just the
way you feel. Needless to say, it is interesting to see where the Lord takes
you and how He uses circumstances to shape you into the person he wants you to
be. I never thought I’d leave Africa and never thought I’d be a teacher but the
Lord has a sense of humor. As the night went on, we both laughed when sharing
about our return experiences to the states. It is difficult adapting to a
culture we were already expected to identify with, especially when you are used
to eating with your hands, speaking in Swahili and saying things you think are
normal such as “pass the rubber (eraser)” or “I just bought a pair of thongs
(flip flops)”. People will never really get you and if you’re me, you will be constantly
referenced and compared to the movie Mean Girls. Just to clarify- third culture kids hate being
compared to movies.
I fought back tears on
Saturday but was thankful for Grandma’s distraction when she asked me to play
Boggle with her on the patio. I’m almost positive she let me win as some sort
of attempt to make me feel better about having to leave in 4 days. My grandma
never loses and I had never beaten her until that day. She claimed to have no
ulterior motive, but deep down inside I knew the truth. Later on that evening
Aimee, Sammy, Austen, Clapaton, Robbie and I went to get ice cream next to
Nakumat. I soon realized that the combination of Boggle and ice cream couldn’t
keep me from smiling.
Sunday brought with it my 26th
year of life. I can’t believe I’m four
years away from 30! I still feel like I’m 12. We spent the morning at church
before swinging by the store to pick up some boxed cake mixes. I know what you’re
thinking—I’m a real Betty Crocker. After spending the early part of the
afternoon baking, the boys came to the house for some celebratory popcorn while
we watched the Amazing Spiderman 2 on bootleg in the living room. I have to
say, I especially enjoyed the Japanese subtitles. By the time the movie was
over, the cake was ready to ice. Aside from me accidentally turning off the
oven which caused the cake to fall, it actually didn’t turn out half bad. I made
sure to cover it heavily with sprinkles and we enjoyed it with ice cream out on
the patio. It was a nice end to the day, not to mention I loved the 5 or 6
forced birthday hugs I got from the boys. My Aunt Chris’ birthday is 3 days
after mine, so on Tuesday night we went to Anghiti’s Indian Restaurant over in
Muthaiga to celebrate. I should probably mention that I am officially addicted
to the Bhindi Masala. When we got back to the house, we opened our gifts. I was
surprised to see that my grandma had bought the orange, leather, Masai purse I
had been eyeballing from Spinner’s Web the last few weeks. She had mentioned
earlier in the summer that she really liked my purse from the States so I decided we would make an even trade.
Wednesday was my last official
day as my flight departed at two in the morning on Thursday. After returning home from spending the afternoon with my friend Lydia, I decided it would be a
good idea to take a shower before my flight. It seemed as if I spent the entire
day being reminded that this would be the last time doing everything: my last
trip to Village Market with Aimee, my last coffee with grandma in her office, my
last time bartering at the soko or my last morning waking up to the crow of
that obnoxious rooster. By the time I made it to the shower, I couldn’t take
it. After turning the knob, I wasn’t sure if more water was coming from my eyes
or the shower head. In that moment I felt like the same the girl who left 14
years ago. Africa was still my home. I thought after all that time that
my feelings would have changed but they hadn’t. I had buried my heart in Kenya
and yet I was leaving it again.
After collecting my thoughts,
I finished getting ready and was met by Dinah at my grandparent’s house. She
had been waiting for me so that she could to say goodbye. Dinah has worked for
our family for over 15 years and I can clearly remember the last time I had to
say goodbye to her. We were at the Jomo Kenyatta Airport. I was crying about
not wanting to go to America and she assured me that everything would be okay.
She helped me fix my necklace that had come undone and I gave her a big hug. Although
the airport setting had been traded for a living room couch, the situation hadn’t
really changed. This time, however, she began to cry as well. After saying our
goodbyes, we thought it would be a good idea to take a picture together with
our now puffy faces—reminder to apply a
heavy filter.
Not long afterward, Grandpa
and I had a similar moment. Being the bawl
bags that we are, we spent several minutes just hugging and crying. He gave me
a kiss on the cheek and told me he loved me and I did the same. I know the
majority of my blog has involved waterworks but I can’t help but describe these
moments and how special they were. It’s hard leaving people you love. Saying bye
to Grandma, the emotionally sound person in the family, is a bit easier. She
simply smiled and gave me hug, which gave me the strength to get myself
together.
At 10 o’clock Mim and Aimee
packed my suitcases into the Voxy and we piled in the car for our last road trip
of the summer. All I kept thinking was that the drive to the airport wasn’t
long enough. I tried to enjoy the cold air on my face as we passed familiar
places. I tried to be joyful in my circumstance. I tried to not think about
what I was leaving behind but sometimes you have to put all logic aside and
just feel your feelings.
Twenty-one hours of flying
gave me plenty of time to think back on the summer. I am so thankful to have
spent those two months in Kenya with my family and am hopeful that there will
be another opportunity for me to go back soon. It has now been a week and I
have yet to fully adjust to my life in Tennessee. My hair simply doesn’t know
what to do with itself after being blow-dried for the first time in two months,
I’ve had a strange desire to wash my clothes by hand and hang them on the line,
I found myself bartering before paying for my pictures at Walgreens, I keep
saying “ama” and “mmm” in almost every conversation and I keep wearing sweaters
while drinking several cups of hot tea. Pretty sure these are all normal
symptoms of re-adjusting. If only I wanted to adjust. I close this blog with a favorite
poem I read while in Kenya. I hope you have enjoyed keeping up with me on my
adventure. It has truly been a safari I’ll never forget. Kwaheri.
Leaving
Africa
I saw a shore strange
And yet familiar in its
shape
An end to my confinement
A leap across a dark
ocean.
I felt the ache again
To jump from the plane
Wanting to go home
And touch the earth of Africa.
I have to leave a shady
ground
Relax my cramped legs
Try to fill the
emptiness
Gained in farewell to birthplace.
My heart thumps with
fear
Because I expect to
reach
Another haven
A first time, another
time.
No comments:
Post a Comment