Though it's a tough few hours, I love our frequent travels to Nairobi from Arusha. The countryside and people are so rich in beauty, it's delightful. Dodging huge trucks barreling down on us on the narrow bitumen, or worse, the dust by-passes, leaving us blinded for what seems like an eternity - all fun in its own scary way!
If we're lucky (or as my friend Costa would say, "Have clean hands and a pure heart!"), we might get to see the misty form of Mt Kilimanjaro to the east.
The occasional game - ostriches, dik-diks, giraffe, zebra and Thompson gazelles, all have featured on our various trips.
But there is another side to the story. The road takes us though some of the driest and famine ravaged parts of the country. In the four to five hours of driving, I can only recall seeing water in one place; a 'billabong' (water-hole or dam - Australian not Swahili term!) an hour north of the border, where cattle are herded for great distances to drink.
The road road construction adds to the dust problems for the locals - coating their villages with thick greyish-brown layers of dirt; children waving from the sides of the road, eyes bloodshot and bodies almost white from the dust.
Yet these people are so quick to smile, laugh and give freely to each other in times of need.
We know the day is coming when Africans, raised in and well-accustomed to poverty and REAL need, will play a significant role in challenging and impacting Western opulence and poverty of spirit (sadly still alive and kicking in yours truly).
We feel privileged to know and be working with these people. We are enriched and challenged by them. They love us and we them.
As we pull into our yard on return, we look in the back and see a thin layer of dust that has covered everything inside the car. Regardless of keeping the windows shut (only possible during these winter months with a broken aircon), the dust has got in ... in the vents, through the doors, covering our bags and bodies. Ah... this is Africa!
If we're lucky (or as my friend Costa would say, "Have clean hands and a pure heart!"), we might get to see the misty form of Mt Kilimanjaro to the east.
The occasional game - ostriches, dik-diks, giraffe, zebra and Thompson gazelles, all have featured on our various trips.
But there is another side to the story. The road takes us though some of the driest and famine ravaged parts of the country. In the four to five hours of driving, I can only recall seeing water in one place; a 'billabong' (water-hole or dam - Australian not Swahili term!) an hour north of the border, where cattle are herded for great distances to drink.
The road road construction adds to the dust problems for the locals - coating their villages with thick greyish-brown layers of dirt; children waving from the sides of the road, eyes bloodshot and bodies almost white from the dust.
Yet these people are so quick to smile, laugh and give freely to each other in times of need.
We know the day is coming when Africans, raised in and well-accustomed to poverty and REAL need, will play a significant role in challenging and impacting Western opulence and poverty of spirit (sadly still alive and kicking in yours truly).
We feel privileged to know and be working with these people. We are enriched and challenged by them. They love us and we them.
As we pull into our yard on return, we look in the back and see a thin layer of dust that has covered everything inside the car. Regardless of keeping the windows shut (only possible during these winter months with a broken aircon), the dust has got in ... in the vents, through the doors, covering our bags and bodies. Ah... this is Africa!
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