Thank god for the fact that I’ve established an extensive body of short stories and essays that I can use as a back-up for posting to my blog/website on an occasional basis. I pride myself in the fact that I don’t have much of a problem writing stuff. The whole concept of “Writer’s Block” seems fairly uncommon. Unfortunately, the situation with this Corona Virus pandemic has created a definite Writer’s Block situation for me. Part of that has to do with the type of writing I do. Everything is so sad right now. Today’s posting is a re-post of the last essay I published related to the trip I made to East Africa at this time last year. Be safe-and we’ll get through this.

Word Count: 982

Kenya Kurudi IV

 (The Return-Part III)

My final week in East Africa flew by in the blink of an eye. Primarily because the trip was almost over and I had to make every moment count, so it happened almost too fast.

During the two weeks I was staying at my friend’s place in Kagio, we made two trips to my old stomping grounds of Nyeri. The first, a visit to the Wambugu Farmer’s Training Center where I worked (touched upon in my last essay), and the second-a trip into the town itself the last week I was in country. To say the town has changed a bit in the 35 years I was away is sort of like saying hair starts growing in strange places as you age (what’s the deal with follicles growing out of your ears?).

Among other notable Nyeri points of interest, Lord Baden Powell (Founder of the international Boy Scouts) is buried near the outskirts of town, and we visited the grave site. Among the more notable aspects of this spot is a well maintained grave site complete with a small museum, and a display building commemorating the man himself. Our visit reminded me of a pervious stop there with my old PCV buddy 35 years ago and him complaining profusely about being forced to participate in Boy Scouts when in his youth. While backing up to take a photo for dart throwing purposes down the line, he tripped and fell. Which led me at the time to comment that the spirit of Lord Baden Powell was returning to haunt him once again.

My favorite spots during the drive back to Kagio were the tea growing zones. Definitely because they were at higher altitude and therefore much cooler places. Quite possibly I’ve grown used to living in Colorado (particularly up in the mountains where it’s cool all the time). Just in the three weeks I was in East Africa, I grew to despise the tropical heat.

Case in point; From 10:30 am till about 4:30 pm you can go outside, but doing any sort of work outdoors is basically like indulging in your favorite masochistic activity to the max. The foothills around Mt. Kenya are bad enough, but doing anything (and I do mean “anything”) if you travel down to the coast (Mombasa-see last week’s essay) is kind of like walking into the proverbial blast furnace. Heat? Obviously, they got it in Spades if you’re going to spend any time in East Africa.

My solution was to go swimming whenever I got the chance. On numerous occasions during my trip to East Africa I carried my swim trunks with me, and jumped in the nearest available pool. My trip to the coast in particular was highlighted by two swimming opportunities in the Indian Ocean, and I partook of any available swimming pool in my friend’s neighborhood. This leads me to believe that I’d be in big trouble if I ever end up living in southern parts of this country, unless of course I’ve got easy access to a pool somewhere in the general vicinity.

There were numerous places I visited this trip that I didn’t go to all those years ago. One of them was the town of Ngong Hills, on the outskirts of Nairobi. Here we visited a spot up in the hills where we did some hiking and a zip-line adventure. The visit was a classic example of why they don’t really need the U.S. Peace Corps in Kenya anymore.  Our hike up in the Ngong Hills had us walking through a huge collection of Wind Turbines generating electricity for the nearby town. This totally crystallized the situation in that the only reason Peace Corps really needs to be in this country anymore is so the locals can see just how clueless and naïve some of these volunteers are. Was I one of these clueless Yanks 35 years ago? Probably. Fortunately, I’m only here on vacation this go-round in an attempt to basically see how much the place has changed.

My time in Kenya was drawing to a close, and with it any last opportunities to do stuff I wanted to experience before leaving. Towards the end, a circumambulation of Mt. Kenya took place and this included a crossing of the equator in Nanyuki, Kenya. My friend is an evangelical minister so that meant attending two marathon church services during my time (strange experiences in and of themselves), and getting a feel for the place that only comes from living there for a while. Something that isn’t possible at this point in my life.

Did the trip work out the way I wanted it too? With one or two minor mishaps, yes indeed. Obviously, Kenya has problems, including a population that’s gotten way out of control and exploded (when I left in ’84 the population was 17.8 million, now its jumped up to 48 million-you tell me?).

Despite this and one or two other drawbacks as a result of the country still being poor, I’m really glad I went back after all this time. The people are genuinely good with their hearts in the right place and always receptive to making a foreigner’s visit a worthwhile adventure. In more ways than one this kept happening to me again and again during the trip.