Harambee

As the sun went down today, I re-lived my years of adolescents on Oro Avenue, when I'd try to stay out as late as possible playing outside in the summer nights before the sun sank and I was called in for dinner. I played out in the street of our estate, attempting the long-jump in a game called, "three sticks." All the neighborhood kids joined us (age 5 to 23) and I was the only white person, though no one seemed to notice. We laughed and continued to play the game until it got dark.

I notice something beautiful about Africa. No one worries about they way they look on the outside, and because this applies to everyone, the type of person you are on the inside is always what's noticed, what's important. That's an obvious problem with the States...and especially in New York. I realize now how jaded I was...many people there are so consumed with working on how they look on the outside, they stop working on how they look on the inside. It's sad really...but now that I realize this, it's so much easier to steer clear of those influences.

I came inside after the game and met cousin Sanau (Carol) in the kitchen. Rice, we cook rice. Every...single...night. But on the bright side, I'm getting really good at it. And...healthy. It's a good way to bond, the cooking I mean...and we all take turns doing something. And there's dancing. There's always dancing. Obviously I'm hooked...I've learned new dance moves like the Gully Creeper, the Kuku, the Helecopter and the Mosquito. Yes, it's true. It's a huge event...sometimes random friends show up, it's such a community, an amazing way of life, where people take the time every day to actually enjoy and appreciate one another's company. This way of life, everyone helping everyone, is the Kenyan motto: Harambee. Harambee is community living...everyone doing their part to help. It's hard to think about not having this be a part of my life...so I'm bringing it back. As soon as I get an apartment.