pieces

I don't know how to describe my favourite things about Kenya, but I'll try. it's glimpses. it's the everyday things. the snapshots of a life lived in Africa.

it's the feeling of satisfaction when you wash your own laundry by hand, and it's finally hanging on the line to dry. it's when you've been there long enough to sleep through the donkey and rooster wake up calls; when you finally look right when crossing the street, instead of left. it's when you step inside the Ngong market to buy bananas and tomatoes and cilantro and it's perfectly, inexplicably quiet. it's when you are washing dishes, leaning over the sink, soap up to your elbows, listening to your neighbours' chatter and inhaling the smells of chai, charcoal and sunset. it's when you are stuck in traffic on the road from Rongai to Bomas, and you see baboons sticking their rears up at you as they retreat into the bush.

it's the sunset over the hills.

it's the subtle grasp of the culture and the language. the feel of the air early in the morning. the familiar beep of a matatu on the road. the particular way that children say 'how are you?' and the way they shake hands, with their left hand grasping their right forearm.

it's when a visitor knocks and you welcome them in, give them slippers and put water on for tea. it's when you and your sister finish each other's sentences. it's Friday nights with a bowl of popcorn, a litre of Coke and season two of Lost.

it's the little things, and the big ones.