Being based in Georgia has been amazing, especially during the last few months when the war has turned the country, and my work, up ended on its head. But never far from my thoughts is my home away from home, Lamu, written about by folks who are better wordsmiths than me. The donkeys, the heat, the fresh tamarind juice, the greetings, dhow rides to Shela, long conversations over shots of strong Arabic coffee, the muezzin's calls to prayer reverberating through town... these are the foundations of my love affair with Lamu, and the why - the what is the what - I choose to return whenever I can.
These days I'm dreaming about Lamu even more than usual. It's the house I recently purchased that I so eagerly want to "make gorgeous," as my dear friends Malik and Norbert encourage me. It's the stress of nearly two months of non-stop work, literally no days off, thinking constantly about where tens of thousands of Georgians are going to spend the winter, what they'll eat, what clothes they'll wear, and how my organization can best serve their needs.
Lamu is my escape. It's where time slows down, where conversations take on more depth, where lying on a rooftop under the stars seems the perfect place to ponder the meaning of life and my place in it, where I dream of friends and family gathered around, sharing this dream I've chosen to pursue.
I'll be there soon I hope, and often...
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