She is already talking. I scoot out my chair and set a plate of food in front of me. The cream in my coffee swirls and churns, the glaze from homemade cinnamon rolls stick to my fingers, I slide my Daily Organizer into better view. In the Kenya that Christine is describing, anytime is the perfect time for people. Women stop to talk on the roads and pathways, their heads laden with baskets and babies strapped to their chests.
Children run and play underfoot.
Life in Kenya is about work and relationships, all at the same time. The friend next to me has handed me a note reminding me that we never seem to get together. I tried to call you a couple of times last week. Let me check my schedule. It is in the shelter of the families, the neighbors, and the friends where the Kenyans look for help.