I wasn’t sure how I’d feel coming back to my little shoe box house after being submerged in the luxury of Lamu. It is a pretty little shoe box and it is home, but still, I expected the fall back to reality to be swift, hard and bumpy. Today I awoke and was stunned by the light carving through my curtains, a light soft, yet with an early morning equatorial glare that made me part the curtains and look outside. The hill in front of our house looked beautiful. Sometimes it looks dirty and muggy, today it looked sharp as if it were viewed through cut glass. The sky, so enormous and nearly blue beckoned a new day.
A sleepy Princess and Trooper tied their laces in silence, cross to be pulled from their beds and dragged back to school.
On the way to school I saw two parents who were handing their three young children to a Boda driver. He would be delivering them to school, one in front and the smallest ones behind. Little backpacks were squeezed between them and they barely teetered as they raised tiny hands to wave goodbye.
The school smelled sweet today. A fragrance was caught in the warm wind and each time I had to walk to the photocopy room I caught a whiff of something heavy and floral, very tropical and sweet.
The first day back is always a bit painful. At the time that I would just be opening one eyelid on a holiday morning, I have already taught two classes of bored and yawning teens. Yet they didn’t knock my mood. Tonight I write this by candle light, of course there is no power and my wine is getting warm, but still I feel light inside.
It hasn’t been a rough landing. Lamu, the sea, the warm still wind is still there, when I walk, talk, wake. I have no idea how long this wave will last before I get tossed onto that bridge of muddy frustration but I hope it lasts awhile. I needed to breathe the sea air, to laugh with my sister, to surround my self with beauty. Like a tender drug these things tend to ware off; when it does I will be on the next plane out. Since arriving here 8 months ago I have seen that the key to my survival here is frequent trips away. Those taken by the sea are simply sweeter.