Update 1.
So everything went fine getting to the airport.
And then we went through security, and at the same time Jenny was pulled aside for extra screening because of her splint and Steven was in very hot water with the bearded guy because he had for some oblivious reason packed big bottles of shampoo and other vanity items in his backpack.
Mercy me, I thought we had covered all this in detail the last two weeks.
So the precious ointments were sent to the trash.
And Jenny's hands tested positive for explosives.
So she and I were taken to a private screening room and gone over in great detail, us and all our belongings, and after that Paul was likewise inspected.
Thankfully they were nice about it and let me stay right with Jenny and weren't as intrusive as they could have been.
But Jenny was still terrified.
Now we are all waiting quietly for our plane to arrive.
They told Jenny it was probably some kind of soap on her hands that set off the alarms.
She is threatening to not wash her hands with soap until we are through security in Amsterdam, some 17 hours from now.
I got the distinct feeling the TSA ladies felt like they were caught helplessly in some bizarre scheme, having to pat down a skinny 11-year-old in the name of protecting the airlines.
Update 2
At last, at last, we are safely in Kenya, where the very air is heavy and slow, and the people friendly and the ladies sit in their booths and sell fresh fruit and the windows have screens but not glass and everyone roars along on the wrong side of the road.
Some things have changed so much. When we were here 7 years ago there were very few motorcycles because someone who didn't want the competition had arranged for a hefty duty on imported cycles. Now they're all over, and also lots of three wheeled things called tuk tuks, sort of golf cart size. And there are far fewer matatus.
We are staying in the guest house at the Mennonite compound and are blown away by the hospitality. I had all kinds of plans for making or buying our own meals, but suddenly we have invitations coming at us on every hand from people we don't even know.
It is wonderful.
And they brought sloppy joes for our lunch, and the fans are blowing, and the air is heavy and tropical and just right for a nap. Seeing as how we had a long, long journey to get here, and very little sleep.
Yesterday was wonderful. Except for the beginning and end.
For breakfast I chopped up some local peppers, onions and tomatoes and fried them with eggs, all food that had appeared at the front door from these phenomenal Mennonites in this compound.
Then we borrowed a van and went downtown, where Paul had arranged to meet Sammy, whom we knew back in the day and who still serves as a "dad" for the remaining orphan boys Steven's age and a liaison between the Into Africa Foundation in the US and about a dozen orphans here.
Sammy sent a text that he's at the old Nakumatt store, so we headed there and walked into the central hallway and wow, it all came back, the crowds, noise, smells, action, and even the same hideous huge plastic Santa Claus that grinned in that tropical heat at Christmas seven years ago.
But we couldn't find Sammy. And Paul couldn't get his new phone to work to text him back. Some tense moments were had when we were trying to persuade the Man of the House to actually go into the Safaricom store and ask for help but perhaps those moments are best ignored. Finally he went and bought some more minutes for his phone, but the Safaricom folks were less than helpful. So we went back to the Mennonite compound and got someone there to help, and Paul arranged for Sammy to meet us here where we're staying.
And then things went wonderfully all day, but I will go into that later, since I need to go back to sleep, but I will just tell you about the end of the day. We had taken our old friend Vincent and his lovely wife Phyllis out for dinner and were driving back after dark when Paul didn't see a speed bump and hit it going way too fast.
The van, being Kenyan, had only a few seat belts, none of which were in the front bench seat where Phyllis and I were, and we both went flying and hit our heads, me on the ceiling and her on the side window. Both of us were in terrible pain but the really horrible thing was that Phyllis is pregnant. The kids got various odd bumps but Phyllis and I got the worst of it by far. We finally got back here and I sat with ice on my head and neck, trying to figure out if my head was actually going to stay on or not. Finally it stopped hurting quite so badly and I decided it would stay on after all and went to bed and 7 hours later I still have a stiff neck but my head is much much better.
I want to call and see how Phyllis is doing in a couple of hours.
And I don't think I've ever seen Paul this repentant. In his own way he felt worse than I did.
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