Im sitting at Cyka‘s desk, using her i-book and eating left-overs from last night’s excelent Sushi meal. How surreal is that? Cyka and me know one another vaguely from having met at TG. We barely remember one another. A term that might be especially appropriate since I was, apparently, wearing the small blue number at the time.
Yesterday we failed to go to Nairobi’s monthly Black Cotton Club: She told me she knew how to get to Tala so I didnt put any directions to the town into my mail, she got bad directions from town and spent five hours looking for me. We headed back to town at a pace so as to avoid driving at night, we hit the speed ramps like a bat out of hell and nearly lost the road a few times. She had stuff to do before the onset of evening, things that would not have been a problem if she’d found my place in the hour or so it should have taken. But in the end there was a lot of stuff to do and her phone had gotten dropped in the morning and was broken so even when we got here she spent a long time trying to get numbers from people because they were in the phone memory and the phone was at the shop. (lesson to eveyone there, write your numbers down). Finally we went out late — oh she dressed up for it, something I couldnt match from my humble rucsack — and went for sushi which was excelent. We had plum wine with gold bits floating about in it. Quite opulent. In fact the whole weeknd has been like an episode from Absolutely Fabulous. We bailed on the club. Well I did, I had to sleep. She stayed up most of the night, I gather.
And today I was up in the morning and she was not. I had a lovely peaceful time in her beautiful garden drinking tea and reading a book on Taoism. Then she joined me at about lunch time and the adventure started anew. Before too long (though not quickly) we were packing up to take a roadtrip in the Toyota Hilux accross the rift valley. I had to work on my willingness because, although its a wonderful opportunity, I wasnt really prepared for it. And as the trip began — shopping for “snacks and supplies (… let’s go get lost, lets go get lost!)” it became clear from a number of telephone conversations I heard one half of, that there was some sort of disagreement going on between Cyka herself and the folk at the camp we were going to. Details not appropriate for this forum but it made me feel less comfortable. I considered, for a while, whether I was just being a coward and I should be more spontaneous (its part of my personal life-contract after all) or whether i really wasn’t sure I’d be safe. After our destination changed from the camp her b/f runs to some neighbouring one we werent even sure we would get into, I asked her if she’d mind if we called it off.
Back here now I actually feel releived, so I think I made the right choice, for me at any rate. I do want to see Kenya’s wonderful fauna, but I need to do it coming from a feeling of peacefulness.