What I miss about Kenya!

If you have been following this blog you obviously know that I have struggled a lot settling in Sweden. I have heard that the first three years in a new country are the most difficult and if this is true then I guess I have one more to go. Another year of me ranting and you reading and commenting encouraging me and reminding me life is not easy in Kenya either.

So what to I miss the most about the motherland?

Family

I miss my mother, my father, and my sister. My father has been realistic through out the journey telling me that I need to be patient and hold on. My sister and mother, on the other hand, are emotional wrecks and want me to hop on the next plane whenever I call them crying. Most recently, my mother got robbed and that incident was the last straw….almost. Anyway, I’m learning how to cope and I hope to see them soon.

Friends

I have known my friends for over a decade. Over a decade guys! They have seen me when I was broke and could not afford a meal at Sonford. They have seen me in jeans and sandals. Guys, jeans and sandals! Who wears jeans and sandals. These friends know me inside out. I have really struggled to have a similar circle here. It’s not happening…yet!

Food

I miss chips mwitu, mahindi choma and roadside fruit salads. I just want to buy chips in a plastic paper after unfolding them from the newspaper cover and walk home eating them one by one….kicking a random stone absent mindedly. Damn!

Social life

Sundays suck without options to attend Koroga festival, Nairobi flea market or blankets and wine. I just need 8 hours a week to pretend in my kitenge attire, reed-basket and humongous sunglasses that for a moment, I come from old money and I went to a group of schools. What? Stop looking at me like that you judgemental ba….aller!

Freedom of Speech

Guys! This is my main issue. I have to think and rethink every time I’m having a conversation and especially with the native Swedes. They are very sensitive and you have to really watch what you say. Most of my conversations even when I make fun of myself, end up in a very awkward situation where I have to either apologize, over explain or walk out in a huff because I can’t handle it anymore.

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