Day 20: Bad at math

No more posts till home…

Tomorrow at 3:00, I board a plane bound for Nairobi. Then another for Amsterdam. And the final points to home. It is over 24 hours in the air with a generous sampling of three hour layovers. I write this post waking from a four hour nap after another bout of intestinal disress. (I suspect the Indian food) Today was church in a non-slum/non-rich/non-middle/upper class urban African Church, lunch, and a coma. Tonight I attend to another Church party with lots of Indian food and forced eating that makes a buffet into a food challenge where losing is not an option. (And I thought Italian mothers were bossy about telling you eat more.)

My trip was 21 days. But my journal only has 15 days. I guess I really am bad at math, but I know where they went. I spent yesterday at a Hindu wedding in a Hindu Temple. I didn’t know the bride or groom and can’t tell you much about the two and half hour ceremony as my seat had a delightful view of a rose flower arrangement and little else. Lunch was immediately following and I condemn as the source of my latest discomfort.  There were days I spent sick. But also there were a couple of days we visited families here in Mombassa. Those visits were personal moments and in honor to the friends we visited, I declined to share them publicly. But this gives me an opportunity to tell you some more about Carol.

Mombassa isn’t an African city like Niarobi. It is a unique blend of cultures. Muslim, Indian, and African. Carol’s mission is to work with the Asian groups. (When you say Asian in Africa, don’t think far east. Asian=anyone from the continent of Asia including India and middle east) So most of my days with her were personal visits with individuals who needed visiting. Those who were hurting, lonely, or down. Which is a lot like my life in America. I’m not very good at it. Sadly, I was equally inept other continents as my own. But problems abound all over the world. Both cosmic, financial, addictive, relational, abusive, and every other category. Only the details are different. I don’t know if that made me feel better or worse, but did make me feel like I know why I believe. We are all just too messed up to fix this alone.

So tomorrow I fly back to warm showers, free refills, clean toilets, buying in bulk, giant portions, clean streets, convenient online everything, and my loving family.

See you soon. Thanks for coming along.

p.s. If my plane crashes, please give this to Q or Aunt Shakespeare to edit up so it sounds more profound and worthy as a last writing. Thanks.