I have really been blessed with the people God has brought into my life. Back in the late 70’s, our father took us to Kenya. It was the last family trip like that we were to have because he passed away that next year.
Have you ever been somewhere that called you to come back? I promptly came home and started to study Swahili in order to return and figure a way to live there. When my father died, I let all of my dreams change and Kenya went on the back burner but it was always in my mind, calling.
In 2007, I finally went back. My one friend I had made while there the first time…he and I actually stayed in touch all of those years. Maybe that was God’s way of helping me to find my way back. I’m not sure if I hadn’t had him waiting at the airport for us, that I would have gone back.
I did though and have been back a few more times after that. When my son went last year, I was so jealous. His stories of climbing Mt. Kenya and his adventures in Nanyuki and the matatu ride back and forth from Naivasha to Nanyuki…it bought back a bit of the thrill of being somewhere that is totally foreign, a little scary because I’m not fluent in the language and the culture is so very different from my own.
Isn’t that why we travel though? To see new things and learn about other people? That’s why I go. I’m ready to go back.
I miss Kenya.