It’s the sound of their voices. It’s the turns of phrase, the tsk tsk sounds, the luxuriously rolled ‘r’s’, the deep rumblings of Austin’s voice when he talks quietly to someone in Kiswahili, the exotic completeness of personality that is most satisfying. It is what I remember and love most and tonight I heard it all again and time stood still.
At the airport, waiting for the eternity of 20 minutes, alone and unmoving, holding my full sized Kenyan flag, I saw them in the distance.
I see them. There they are. I lift the Kenyan flag and then I hear their voices, the whoop of joy, the silence and the decorum of the airport shattered with uncontained joy. I know I shouted too. I held the Kenyan flag high and I danced for them.
I loved embracing each and every one of them, and hearing their unique voices, their identities in sound, washing over me in recognizable waves. They are my ocean.
I feel such completeness and accomplishment. Zippy, Austin, Christine, Jean, David, Eric and Muriithi are in America, in Ohio, in Cincinnati.
The great fun is about to begin.