House of Cards

the heath, oysters, pig cheek, welsh rarebit, cricket at Lord’s, flat whites, horse puppets and proper beer sorts you out!

rocks off

There isn't really anything to say about Lalibela. 

Or rather, there is nothing I can say. 

No words can replicate how it feels to stand at the foot of these epic, mythical, living structures, 

what it means to get up close to the walls and see individual chisel marks, 

or the intensity of standing next to someone kissing the floor, praying under their white cotton shawl. 

I'll try and show you instead:

unreal. 

Everything In Its Right Place

this is what insanity feels like:

the number song

so what happened during 20 days in the field...

explanation attempt 1:

northern exposure

My first trip North was pretty outrageous, for several reasons. Among the more easy-to-articulate was the staggering climatic/topographic/biome/ecosystem variety. In the scope of 7 days, we encountered some pretty wild extremes: dessert lakes, volcanic rock, sand, quartz, downpours and dust storms. Here is an attempt to show you what I mean...

the approach to Lake Turkana.

high in my top 5 most-stunning-places

the lake shore at sunset.

post-birthday swim

driving between Loiyangalani and Kargi.

a real in-between space: the rock of Lake Turkana and the sand of the south Chalbi Desert

from Kargi to Korr.

pure Kaisut Desert

driving through the "white highlands" on the way home.

unbelievable that this is all within 548km (~340 miles)

It isn't that I didn't expect such variation. Certainly, the climatic and topographic changes in the US are equally as staggering. But the changes here are so extreme, within a comparatively short area, and often in the context of INTENSE dependence on the environment by local communities...you can't help but be sobered by the rain flooding an already-flooded field when only 5 hours before you were passing herds of thin goats engulfed in sand storms. It's wild.

A Sense of Where I Am

I just finished A Sense of Where You Are, a book about basketball and Bill Bradley by one of my mainest men, John McPhee. The title comes from a profound excerpt in which Bill Bradley explains his mastery of the 'over-the-shoulder-shot:'

He went on to say that it is a much simpler shot than it appears to be, and, to illustrate, he tossed a ball over his shoulder and into the basket while he was talking and looking me in the eye. I retrieved the ball and handed it back to him. "When you have played basketball for a while, you don't need to look at the basket when you are in close like this," he said, throwing it over his shoulders and right through the hoop. "You develop a sense of where you are."

McPhee, like the sage that he is, quietly presents this line as the focal point of the text.

It is a great place from which to consider my first week (back, in a way) in Kenya, my first week in Nanyuki, my first week of work in an office and the last days in which I can claim Neil Young's "Old Man" to be personally relevant:

"Old man take a look at my life, 24 and there's so much more..."

It is great to be back in Kenya, albeit in a totally different ecosystem, latitude and context. I'm glad to dust off my Swahili, drink chai, hear glossy ibis and "mzungu!," buy a new pair of Batas and follow the Premier League again.

Nanyuki is a pretty hilarious place, one that continues to surprise me as I see more of it. So far my favorite spot is our corner fruit stand, where offerings change hourly, I am always in the way, fresh fruit salad is available while you shop and prices are calculated on a large, plastic-covered calculator.

Work is excellent, thought-provoking and intense, but totally rewarding and exciting. I miss the tangible rewards of food production but it feels good to hunker down and make incomprehensible idea web/flow charts again.

As for the first quarter of a century, it has been quite a ride. I hear you have to get serious when you turn 25. For me, it will come on the shores of Lake Turkana, close to where we all began.

What's next?