today, everyone was singing

My one week in Lamu was life affirming. Just can't find any other adjective that feels right. I bonded with our field staff Mary Wangui, since I didn't know her well beforehand. I saw endless baobobs standing proudly for miles and miles. I was reminded that I was born to be near the sea. It feels like home no matter what sea it is. I met some truly amazing peers while training and working in the shamba (garden) and felt like I found my adopted grandfather. I also learned that I adore donkeys and I actually have potential as a trainer of trainers.

One day during our visit I gave a class on seeds. I covered the basics of what seeds are and the different types, harvesting and seed selection, processing techniques and seed testing for germination rate-ran out of time for the part about storage (so critical!) but left detailed notes to be photocopied for everyone. We did a practical on seed testing and on seed fermentation. A couple of days later we built a seed flat from wood and planted a bunch of different seeds in it.

It was beyond rewarding to visit the shamba on the day we left to see so many seeds sending their glorious shoots into the hot, island sunshine. The beds with: sorghum, black night shade, collards, maize and carrots were all dusted with specks of green lovely life. There was one potato shoot and a good number of the beds were safely protected by green onions we inter cropped. The 7 or so seed flats we had planted in were all snuggled under their dried grass with their tiny seeds embraced by the soil mixture and soaking up the light so full of promise.

Wangui, myself and all of our new friends all agreed we felt like crying and that we should really stay, indefinitely. Sharif, my honorary grandfather, collected and cut coconuts with a machete for Wangui and I to drink and brought coconut tree seedlings for us to take back and plant. He also gave us two custard apple tree seedlings and a pile of ladyfinger (okra) seeds. Earlier in the day he took Wangui and I sailing out to Manda, the nearby island. As I returned back to the dhow after walking on the beach he gave me a tiny shell with a hole in it and I felt so special. I also found the skeleton of a flawless sea urchin which sailed all the way back with me to only be sat on by Wangui when it was on my bed later in the day. I experienced one split second of total melancholy for my loss and then I just looked at her and died laughing. She said, "there's no way you would have been able to carry that home".

Other memorable Wangui quotes from the trip:
"oh, you are getting fat!"
"give me your clothes to be washed so I can leave you with your problems."
"are you feeling nice?" (after I had spent hours on the floor suffering from heat exhaustion and dehydration unable to even lift my head up and had decided I was surely not going to live)
"coastal donkeys don't eat that" (when I thought of giving Farhana the donkey the peels from the tree tomatos we fermented the seeds from. it struck me as hilarious since she's far from a donkey expert)

I really connected with these two awesome kids that lived near my room- Jasmine and her younger brother Twalib. One morning they were singing in the kitchen we shared before I was up and going and I just laid in bed smiling the whole time. Jasmine has a chillingly powerful voice. I somehow managed to get her permission for me to record two songs so I can share them with my sister. They are in Arabic (I believe) and I can't stop singing them both today. They are so unique from all other songs I know.

On our journey back we were able to spend one day in Mombasa. I instantly felt like I belonged there. The city has so much character and is so full of life and really has that coastal feel that makes you certain that time can move at a reasonable speed and everything will be alright.

This entry is going to fall into the To Be Continued category. my eyelids feel like anchors.

As they say in Shela: "badai" (later...) :D