We turned up in Kenya just in time for a celebration at our friend's parents' farm in the country. It was a family reunion with two families. I think there were around 45 or 50 people.
Making stacks and stacks of chappattis.
I loved Hannah, and stuck to her like glue. I didn't find out until later that she is the adopted daughter of my friend's mother.
Patrick and Pauline were our hosts in Nairobi this trip and the last one. Pauline's brother is our friend in Dubai. The picture is a bit smudgy because the kids were eating food and then touching the camera lens.
Shiro, daughter of another friend, trying on my sunglasses while we waited for dinner to be served.
Don kept playing tricks on these boys, and fwapping them over their heads with his water bottle, but they kept coming back for more.
Hannah spinning Wanju around and around
There comes a time during parties at Benjamin's parents' house, when everybody makes a speech. I think I learned Kikuyu by osmosis during the process.
The children are beautiful and full of smiles. I always expect much worse when I read stories about Africa (as if the horrors of everyday life might change them on a soul level) -- but it's not the case. The people are so open-hearted and genuine.
2210, perhaps? And did you mean just that stop, or the entire red line? Either way, that comes across as really capricious. I don't suppose they arranged buses for people stuck on account of their unannounced decisions?