Jambo!

"Hope is alive while we're apart
Only tears speak for my heart
Break these chains that hold us down
And we shall live forever bound
When I'm tired and weary
And a long way from home
I reach for mother Mary
And I shall not walk alone." -Ben Harper

Ben Harper serenades me to sleep until hours pass and I'm abruptly awoken by the shake of a flight attendant asking me, "pork or fish?" The fish accompanied by a white roll wrapped in plastic was small and unsatisfying, but my body thanked me for the nutrients. I had barely ate in two days among the chaos of traveling.

With a full belly and two glasses of wine later, I fall back asleep to the sounds of my own drunken thoughts. It's the next morning and my sleepy eyes shutter open to a geographical screen showing us flying directly over the Nile and that's when it finally hits me--holy shit! I'm in Africa!

This is the first time it has really sunk in. A rush of adrenaline runs through me until my next unsettling thought. I couldn't help but think how all these exciting, new experiences all too quickly become distant memories as I fade one day into the next.

An overwhelming amount of mixed emotions rush through my head as my heart grows more open to whatever opportunities will surely present themselves. Here I am--alive and ready for whatever the good Lord places in front of me.

As I arrive at customs in Nairobi, I'm surprisingly calm. Mummers of multiple languages echo all around me, and I'm overly aware I am a traveler away from home. I try to embrace the fact that I am a "mzungu," or "white person."

I'm greeted by friendly faces. As we pile into the car, I'm overwhelmed by the overstimulation of the city. But as soon as we arrive at our humble little hostel,  I immediately feel at home. I grab a top bunk covered in NASCAR sheets and peacefully sleep for a short seven hour nap. It was still 2am back home, and my body was exhausted.

For dinner I escape the confinements of the hostel gates for the first time and I feel anxious to explore more of the city inspite of the pouring rain. The restaurant consisted of fold-out table and chairs and full of locals laughing over beers. Our server had us write our order on a moist, ripped piece of notebook paper. We sit and indulge in a simple meal consisting of mostly rice and beans as we watch futball on the television.

As I drink my first TUSKER beer by the fire with my new friends, we share of our plans over the course of the next six weeks. We have a lot of ground to cover and I feel slightly overwhelmed, but excited nonetheless.

KEWA HAPO, KEWA SASA, POPOTE ULIPO, KEWA HAPO. BE THERE, BE PRESENT, WHEREVER YOU ARE, BE HERE.

With love from Africa,
Alex