All posts tagged: Kenya

mid-week link love

Amigos! Saxiibo! Les amis! Friends! How’s the week going? You’ve nearly reached the end, hope you’ve got something smashing planned. I’ll be… working, but working on new and interesting things, so I don’t mind so much. But first… out to the kitchen to make bread pudding with half a loaf of leftover Irish soda bread I baked for St. Patrick’s Day. Because everyone’s Irish on St. Patrick’s Day, including Americans in the Horn of Africa. Here’s a few links to keep you bobbing along into the weekend! 

mid-week link love

Hiya! Somewhere, for someone, Sunday counts as mid-week, so let’s have a go. After a long stretch of meetings and main hustles and side hustles and non-stop work, I’m headed back to Hargeisa from Nairobi, and diving into more of the same! A few links to get us through: Having recently decided to take a risk and embark on some new ventures, I’m majorly feeling these career paths from Mari Andrew. (via A Cup of Jo) Anybody out there of the Marcy Playground generation? Here’s Allen Stone covering “Sex & Candy,” a song that was deviant and mysterious when I was in 6th grade! Upgraded blast from the past. (Side note, if you’re not familiar with Allen Stone, brace yourself for the beauty) I’ve long considered myself a “language person” as opposed to a “math person.” Here’s an interesting argument for mathematics as a legitimate language, replete with verbs, nouns, and narrative. (via ThoughtCo.) Get a load of these substitute phones! For the reflexive, compulsive fidgeters among us. (via The Verge) This stunning short piece by …

on glamping in Kenya

In Nairobi a couple weeks ago for a short holiday, we decided to break out of the norm and really push ourselves, reach for our limits, embrace Mother Nature and get down and dirty. You know, rough it a bit. So naturally, we went glamping in Karen. The interior accommodations are stunning, equal parts Indiana Jones and post-colonial luxury. Oil lamps and electric space heaters; heavy wooden trunks and indoor plumbing; a simple desk with chair and lamp for scrawling inspired tales into a leather-bound journal after a long day in the bush. Also, wifi.

on disappointment

One strength that comes with age, to my utter satisfaction, is the diminishing of Fears of Unusual Proportion. Those situations or conversations that years before might’ve rendered you weak in the knees with stomach in knots are now set in relief against such a breadth of life experience that their power over you is a fraction of what it used to be. That’s not to say the fear is eviscerated. I think that only comes after a lifetime of transcendental meditation, or the sudden bequeathal of super hero powers; I’ve achieved neither. In fact, I’ve noticed that old fears are simply replaced with newer ones, the latter more concerned with community than ego, with inner well-being than with outward presentation. Nevertheless, difficult conversations and weighty responsibilities are more and more the things I push through, small prices for a career, or growth in relationship, or simply growing up. Yet when it comes to conquering one particular fear, I may be a late bloomer: The fear of disappointing others. Last week I had a triple-threat lesson in this particular theme, …

on kenya (ii)

Headed down into the Great Rift Valley, the view is hard to grasp; it’s the kind of view that tells stories upon stories, but above all the story of your own smallness. Because in all your perfection, you’re nothing compared to its vastness. I love those kinds of views–they are both astonishing and soothing, and they give explicit directive not to take life so seriously, considering the long view of things. We entered the valley at Hell’s Gate, rumbling through shrubby plains lined by enormous, wind-blown cliffs. The animals of my childhood storybooks traipsed about, and I pointed in glee again and again. Below, bottom right, there is a small brown bump headed over that low fold in the landscape. It could be anything; it is a warthog (my very first). Hell’s Gate is nothing if not hike-worthy, and we headed into The Gorge, led by a young Maasai tour guide named Richard who was lovely, and patient, and a fantastic contrast to the weathered surroundings in his bright red cloth. we made it all the way to The …

on kenya (i)

On Mt. Kenya, more specifically; 3 hours north of Nairobi, many miles into the sky. It was surreal, full of contradictions, and the absolute opposite of dusty, red, sweltering Bamako. It was cold, and foggy, and drizzly, and lush, beautiful, and green. We were lost among the trees, and it was wonderful. There were horses grazing freely, along with cows, dogs, and elephants… There were wildflowers blooming through the mist… And constant conversation between remarkable people at this conference among the clouds. There was zebra print and muesli, and crackling fires for the chilly evenings. There was Tusker beer and old stone hideouts waiting for visitors. There were grand verandas, courgette soup for 40, and elephant skulls guarding doorways. There were wet treks to meetings, and steaming hot chocolate, and the best breakfast for miles… And stunning views of mountaintops shrouded in clouds, tucked behind layers upon layers of leaves. Castle Forest Lodge Mt. Kenya, Kenya