Kenyans are my favourite people. I love my family and I am as patriotic as it gets. But I really enjoy being around these brothers and sisters of mine. They are the perfect mix of drama and cool contentedness. They know how to get a party started, for those who like that kind of thing. However, at the same time, they know how to be still and sensible. I should know. I married one of them :)
Yesterday, I was in a cab with a Kenyan. Being the quiet soul that I am, I sat quietly for an hour and planned my next day's activity. My companion, noticing that I wasn't the chatty type, turned up the radio and sat quietly with me the entire time. I am accustomed to and unhappy with the hundreds of questions that I have to answer in most cab rides, so this was a pleasant surprise for me.
When we got to the end of the ride, he thanked me in Kiswahili (to which I responded in my massacred version of the language). He seemed like a sensible dude [especially in comparison to the dude at Walmart who was trying to seduce me while I shopped for stationery!]. I was gutted that I had missed out on this opportunity, to meet another one of my favourite people. Worse still, I didn't get his number. So, I'm now on a mission to meet people and make friends until I find my almost friend. I didn't even get his name!
How many other almost friends have I missed out on, I wonder? I am usually a strong defender of my right to be quiet and keep to myself. But that may change now. Now, I'm talking. [Well, at least a little more than usual...]
