James

Difficult to blog from my I phone in the ten minutes between breakfast and walking out the door but suffice to say I have a heart full of good things for this place. People are generally very kind- no one more so than James, our sweet guide and friend from Mombasa. He and Peter run Blessed Camp leprosy colony. James sings under his breath in a voice I wish I could record, and i try to make him laugh as much as possible- Everything about him is steady and calm- even the other day as he navigated all of us through a massive car accident involving a taxi we had just gotten out of. He is the most gentle person I have ever met, and his manner and quiet uncomplaining presence makes me feel unrefined by comparison. He misses Mombasa and his wife and 1 year old son Caleb. We will meet them both in a few days and I will sit with them in church next Sunday and celebrate James who is graduating from his seminary program. Today we will spend the day in a village outside the city with two leather workers named Tom and Mattua. Sure to be a long day looking forward to being back at this table tonight for dinner and back to our hotel to rest.

Xo,
E

Im in Kenya!

I landed in Nairobi four days ago and have been working every available moment. Good work, that makes me happy- work that I love. Later I will explain what exactly it is that I will be doing here for a month. Internet access is not readily available so it may be days before I post again. 

Today I just want to tell you what I love about this place. From the minute I left the airport in a taxi at 2 am I was in amazed at this place. There is a phenomenon here of familiarity, at least for me there has been. The smell especially is amazing- every inhalation brings back another childhood memory- it seems I am reliving my whole life. 

I smell the bakery down the street in the morning and I am eleven years old again and have been transported back to my mother's kitchen, I smell my grandfather's cologne and I imagine him walking just ahead of me. Sometimes I've found a trace of the scent of my grandmothers purse- the old leather handbag stuffed with lipstick-stained tissues and cinnamon gum, that's one of my favorites. Yesterday riding in a taxi to a village outside the city I smelled cedar and incense and I was 16 again and listening to the Afro Cuban Allstars.

The weather is lovely and the breeze cocktails the smell of sweat and dust and grass. This is most common but not unpleasant- the type of smells we mask at home under perfume and soap. But here I like it, it's what I knew as a kid playing in the back yard all afternoon and into the evening. It feels satisfying in a way I cant explain. I so wish I could.

Love you all, 

Ev

PS....one sleepless night last night- the only thing that made it better was my brother's new record "The Wanderings of an Illustrative Mind" by Among Savages. If you want to know what Kenya sounds like for me this week...