Leaving home, Coming home

“Well leaving England never gets any easier, no matter how many times you do it” 
 . . . . . these were wise words from My Auntie Sylvia who spent 14 years working in Kenya and I feel so reassured by them.
Yet, It still feels like I am tearing myself away from loved ones and the life that makes sense to me…. I know that I will be fine once I reach Kenya but for now I feel heart broken and a little bit confused. I feel like my life has two sides that rarely cross over.  I want them both, and I love them both, but living in-between the two is hard and therefore the dreaded confusing days leading up to departure are never comfortable.

Anyway I am here,  back in Kenya. I have arrived to the warm air, the sunny skies and the ever smiling faces… I forget that there really is so much a sense of joy here. I instantly feel welcomed by strangers who feel like long lost friends.
As I go to pick up my baggage, I find a big pile up of cases upon cases because the conveyer is not going round and bags are everywhere.  People are clambering over the bags, but no one seems really that inconvenienced by it - no one except the odd white person who is certainly not amused. . . I chuckle to myself as I remember a similar sight last time where a dog was circulating around the only working conveyer as if he was in some sort of fashion parade!

I hope I continue in this way of finding such things endearing, it is all too easy to get exasperated and frustrated and loose sight of some of the beauty and simplicity of this place.  

One of my resolutions for this season is to enjoy this  beautiful country, to look up more instead of looking down, to be with the people rather than just doing things for them, to revel more in what Kenya is so rich in, the beautiful countryside, wonderful people and varied experiences. I don’t want to be that cross white person at the airport who excludes themselves because they don’t understand, or see the bigger picture, or enter in to the more important values of this place.

Once I have my bags I wander out towards the sea of taxi drivers who are eagerly waving, wanting to attract customers. I am looking for my Masai friend, David, who is picking me up and spot his tall stature immediately, as his head towers above all the others. It is 7.30 a.m. and he has been waiting an hour for me, I apologise and he smiles with arms open and says” hakuna matata”

David and his friend Emmanuel take me on an adventure. I doze in the car and we arrive at a place that turns out to be the hottest place on earth, (even a Masai can comment that ‘this place is too hot’)  I am laughing at the thought of me coming from England in my jeans to a dessert place with no shade. But that hot, hot sunshine warms my bones and I am touched that they have planned this day out for me. We walk around a museum and excavation sight, looking at rock formations and elephant skulls from thousands of years ago…I love the randomness, was it really yesterday that I was eating a bacon sandwich with my dad?

A few nights of Nairobi and staying with my friend was wonderful, I am amazed by all the choices I have at the supermarket here and stock up on all the things that I couldn’t fit in to my case before I left, (you know, the essentials like marshmallows, Imperial Leather shower foam, a tube of Pringles and a can of tuna..) it is amazing how the mundane becomes so exciting.

Then It’s time for me to get on the coach and start my 10 hour journey back to Kimilili. On my way back to Western, I feel like I am on my way home and the first strand of excitement comes over me - the welcome back text messages start to roll in  and I remember the reasons why I am coming back. That is a relief as those reasons really had escaped my mind when I was being waved off by Dad and Lizzie at the airport, where I almost hoped for the plane to be cancelled so I didn’t have to go…
........when I had gone through baggage check, I think the assistant had taken pity on me when he saw the tears in my eyes and he called me into the fast lane to be checked, no sooner had he done that than the whole team of Manchester United players swarmed amongst me in their smart black suits and I found myself muddled up, as we all took off our belts and put our phones on the conveyer. I must admit my chipped little Nokia had looked quite prehistoric in the tray next to their flashy Iphones . . . . . . .  24 hours later the contrasts of this world really are so extreme!

As we travel further west, the shops and toilets get more and more basic and as we stop for a snack I strangely feel more grounded by the usual limited variety,…no Pringles here, but soggy plain crisps in a clear packet are in their plenty! I am delighted to spy a fruit seller selling apples, a real rarity, even if it does cost a whole 30p - that is six times the price of a banana, but it is delicious and we set off again. 
I look out the window at the little waving hands of children and the colourful shops with their interesting names, like a general store named “ Christ’s blood shed is our salvation” and another named “ Nice Sausage” - I can only assume it sells sausages, but who knows, this is Kenya! It is good to be back.

Back to Kimilili

My good friend Michael, wearing a big wide smile and jumping around, meets me off the bus at Bungoma - we chat all the way home,

More text messages come through and they are lovely, such as
       “how soon will you pass by my house”   and
                “ I hear you are back, so I am ironing my shirt so I look my best”
What a welcome, I feel loved!

Doing the rounds of 'Hellos' starts, and visiting friends and babies that have arrived since I was away is special.  I am served up beans and Chappatis by a mother who acts as if she was not in labour 5 days ago and we share all the stories and laugh a lot. Apparently I look
“typical Musungu”  healthy (meaning I have put on weight) and very white…

I can't wait to get back to my shop.  Evans welcomes me and has kept everything in perfect order while I have been away. In the workshop at the back, (which was a bit unused when I left) there is a hive of activity, and Dalmas, one of the artists talks me through the paintings that he has been doing with Evans. It is so refreshing to see how they all have a much deeper concept, and it is evident that he and Evans have really thought about the message they want to portray. This is amazing to see because you only really see artwork being produced in the tourist areas, and even then, it is the same image of a Masai or an elephant churned out 1000 times.

I am inspired and encouraged and want to plan an exhibition soon. Bring on the creativity in this place! I have been talking about it for so long and now I want to help make it happen.