honey, I'm {almost} home

I leave for home in five days: holy cow.

I fully intend to create an entry describing our April team’s phenomenal work, current Kenyan events, and my 2.5 days in Mombasa. However, I am still finding it difficult to relive the loss of Baby Nikon. We’ll hope for an improved outlook and attitude after I meet with my booking agent today. I am expecting a refund!

As my departure date has crept closer this week, I have subconsciously and intimately recorded and replayed the details of this place and my life here. It’s just a few mental notes of the little {important} things. Here are 15 lessons that without fail bring a smile to my face, often progressing to releases of laughter…which then leads to more people staring. : )

Greens are only good when you mix them with something else.

Tiffany is not a good name for this town unless you want to be called Ms. Stephen by everyone…even by Mr. Robi. I like the way he says it though {Stiff-fun}…so endearing it is almost like your dad calling you “pumpkin.”

It is impossible to maintain clean feet, even when you are wearing socks.

It is incredibly humbling to hand wash your own socks and undergarments. Let’s just say nothing comes out looking like it has been through the gentle cycle…and nothing comes out feeling Downy soft.

Africa is the solution for nail biters. I have quite a set of hands these days. Otherwise, you never know what dirt is under there while you are munching.

Large flying and humming beetles make a big splat.

You can cook potatoes in 1,624 ways.

You can feed a Diet Coke addition anywhere…even in the middle of nowhere in Kenya.

I am an expert in peanut butter varieties. I can probably give you a salt-peanut-sugar ratio for at least five brands.

Dolly Parton is making a comeback here…somehow.

Kikuyu women make me look like a wimp. You try to carry 20 liters of water, an industrial size sack of maize, or several kilos of coal on your head…and walk a few kilometers…and talk on a cell phone! Game on!

I still wonder how an outhouse actually works. Is there toilet paper hanging in there somewhere? Leaves? Wet wipes? It’s just puzzling.

I am a mzungu {random white person} and proud of it. I even have a t-shirt that says so. However, I do tell everyone in the market I am Kenyan. It’s the one Swahili phrase I know by heart. It makes shopping and bargaining a bit easier.

Beer is 120 shillings. That is $1.54. No worries—I have not partaken in drinking festivities here, but the price is impressive. It’s a bargain compared to my $9 per bottle beverage of choice at home.

I cannot get a tan, except for on my feet. I’m hoping crisscrossing Chaco sandal tans are the new look for spring?

See you all very soon. I am in debt to you for your support and encouragement during my first eight weeks…

tnick