Kenya: From the Beginning.

Where do I even begin?
I am sitting here at my computer in my over-sized, rather beautiful home. After losing 10 pounds, you would think that my excitement consists of hopping in a swimsuit and soaking up the summer sun. Yet, that does not sound appealing currently. Yes, a good nights rest (consisting of 10 hours) was wonderful. A warm, long shower was more than pleasant. But, after I was rejuvenated, my first instinct was: "Okay. Now take me back to Kenya."

This is so difficult for me to even begin writing. I have put off writing about this entire "trip" because I cannot convey the experiences I've been through in words. But I will try my best. So, I will begin my journey of the past month of my life.
Let's start from the beginning. I will take you one day (or a few days) at a time.

The flight to Mombasa (the second largest city in Kenya) was painful. Literally. I had gotten four hours of sleep on the airplane. I was restless. I was excited. I was nervous. I was sad because I felt like I had left something back at home (no, not a material thing, but some big event or person). After an expontentially long couple days of travel, we landed. As I saw (felt?) the plane descend, my heart beat faster. I made it. I'm finally here. I thought to myself. I have dreamed about coming to Africa since I was 12 years old. I have been drawn to these people for some unknown reason. (Despite popular belief, it has nothing to do with my Jungle Fever. Which, in fact, was solidified while in Kenya. But that's besides the point).

While driving through the city, my eyes subconsciously continued to get bigger. Our entire lives we hear about garbage and filth. But as I drove through this unbelievably crowded city, holding onto my seat tightly due to the constant energy the people and cars were exposing, I was taken aback. You do not know filth until you have actually been in it. You do not know poor until you walk in it. And I was doing that. I thought I was ready for this place. I thought it was going to be no surprise. And it wasn't a surprise, but how I was feeling certainly was.




Old Town in Mombasa.

We walked around Fort Jesus, an old slave trade. We walked through Old Town, with the accompaniment of Mbote, our incredible driver (more on him later). We saw Old Port and came across teenagers smoking weed. Felt a little like home in that moment :) For one night, I had a flushing toilet and a warm shower. There was a beautiful pool and I swam in the Indian Ocean for my first time. The first couple of days, we were tourists. And yet, I knew that these experiences in the city were already widening my eyes to a completely different world.

We, then, went to Haller Park. (yes, pronounced like HOLLA). I got to 1. Feed a giraffe. 2. Pet a giant tortoise. and 3. Sit right next to a monkey. Yes, I felt like I was in Africa.







I had fulfilled my tourist duty. I was ready to hit the bush.
xo,
Sisi