Monday, August 1, 2011
My taxi and flight went without a hitch. It’s strange being greeted with “Jambo!” or “Karibu!” instead of the Dinka equivalents. I even started speaking to my driver in Dinka, then burst out laughing when he looked at me in confusion!
What country am I in?
It’s clear to me I’m not in Sudan. But it’s not always clear that I’m in Kenya. Is this really Africa?
If my newest lodging is any indication, I’d venture to say it isn’t.
What I mean is... I’ve finally succumbed to pressure, fatigue, and temptation and come to the Kenyan coast.
The resort sent a driver to pick me up at the airport. And after stepping off the small plane, I was greeted by a gregarious chap named Peter who loves Jesus and claims to live by the two commandments. (No, not the 10 commandments; that’s too many to remember!) He lives by the two summed up by Jesus.
Love God. Love others. -- How can you argue with that?
We laughed most of the 20 minute drive down the coast as the wind coated me in a fine layer of salt. Palm trees. Coral rocks. Fields of blighted maize.
Yes, the drought that has hit East Africa has caused the fields to fail even on this windswept shore.
Peter deposited me at the door of the fancy resort and I was immediately faced with exotic tokens like key cards, towel boys and beach umbrellas.
Is this really Africa? -- It’s hard to say.
Don’t get me wrong. I need this break, and I’m going to enjoy it to the fullest. But part of me wishes I weren’t alone.
Anyone want to join me for a little siesta on the beach in Malindi? I would LOVE the company!
Thanks for praying for me to get some rest. I expect I’ll get more than my fair share here. Is it wrong for me to wish for sun when the drought is so severe?