We’re at the guest house now. The Mennonite Guest House in Nairobi, Kenya. It’s quite beautiful. The rooms are rather like hostels in Europe (simple furnishings, nothing too extravagant), but the grounds seem quite amazing (at least what we can see at night).

I’m sharing a room with Kim and Rachel. Well, actually, I have my own room, but theirs is adjoining mine and I have to go through theirs to get to the bathroom.

The flight was rather long and I was stuck in the middle because I gave up my aisle seat for someone who wanted to sit with his partner. It was kinda cute. He leaned over to thank me and whispered “I’m a little scared, so I appreciate it.”

I was sitting beside one of 29 people on our flight who all wore matching red sweat shirts that said “Mt. Kilimanjaro”. They were part of a tour group from Norway on their way to attempt to climb Kilimanjaro. It’s a six day hike (there and back) and there’s no guarantee they’ll make it to the top.

The guy beside me introduced himself to me after drinking A LOT of alcohol – probably half a dozen red wine and then another half a dozen drambuie. His name is Eric. He’s been married 35 or 36 years (I can’t remember exactly) and says he’s still really in love with his wife. He says he’ll start missing her in a couple of days. He used to farm mink and salmon. He was taught by his dad who spent time in America where he learned about the industry. About a year and a half ago, Eric sold the business and is now wealthy enough to travel the world.

After that many drinks, he didn’t mind sharing his philosophies with me. He likes to travel, but mostly he likes English-speaking countries. He doesn’t like Arabs and thinks it’s a problem that so many are immigrating to Norway. He believes that children should be raised by their parents and not childcare. He thinks it’s unfortunate that so many in Norway are prejudiced against the U.S. because of Iraq.

On the other side were 2 women from the Okanagan. I think their names are Kathleen and Toni. They’re on their way to a safari in the Serengetti, and then a few days on the beach. I got the distinct feeling that they were life partners – perhaps they were even on their honeymoon. I tried to analyze why I thought that, and, besides the fact that one was rather butch looking, there was a subtlety to their communication that spoke more of lover than friend. Not that I wanted to ask them, but I wish they could have felt comfortable telling me if they WERE on a honeymoon.

Well, I’d better try to sleep now – though it’s only 3:00 in the afternoon at home. This bed is delightfully comfy, and the air is nice – not hot, but not cool either.

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