NNP

As I mentioned, we returned from the US with my mother-in-law. She would spend about a month with us. I say “us”, but I was rarely there spending most of that period in Mogadishu.

We did find time to go on a short safari in Nairobi National Park (NNP). The last time she came, we took her on a multi-day safari at another, bigger park. We also took her to the coast to spend a few days at the beach.

This time, for various reasons, the focus would be mostly on Nairobi. MIL wasn’t as keen on spending a lot of time riding in a vehicle and really wanted to just be a part of our routines, getting a feel for what our lives are like.

NNP is quite close to where we live. Leaving before sunrise, the drive from our gate to the NNP gate was six minutes. It’s quite amazing to think that we can do a wonderful game drive so close to home.

guinea fowl

After entering the external gate, we joined a queue of mostly 4WD safari vehicles. Because of NNPs close proximity to a major city, you also see a lot of personal cars driving around the park. It’s great that people can access a park so easily and cheaply, especially for Kenyans and residents. The downside, particularly during the rainy season, is that little 2WD cars frequently get stuck in the mud trying to navigate some of the roads.

Once inside the park, I always experience a sense of calm. You leave a bustling city and all of he sudden you are in a completely different world. I know NNP fairly well and I don’t use a map. I don’t follow the same roads each time but I do tend to have an idea as to the areas I want to include over the course of the morning. One thing that influences our route is that I am always on the lookout for clusters of vehicles that may indicate a significant sighting of some kind (ex. lions, rhinos, etc.).

jackals

After seeing some hippos and some other animals, very quickly we encountered our first rhino. Regardless of how many rhinos I see, I always get a thrill from seeing them. They are crazy, prehistoric-looking animals.

white rhinos

At one point we stopped at a rest area. In a national park, you’re not allowed to exit your vehicle except in designated areas. One thing that has puzzled me is how a designated area is that much safer than a non-designated area. There are no fences protecting these areas nor are there armed park rangers always stationed in them. I’ve never heard of any issues arising from people accessing these areas but I would think that there is always that possibility.

mama buffalo and baby

Case in point, when we stopped to stretch our legs and use the restrooms, we noticed some buffaloes a few meters away. No fence between us. Though buffaloes are not as aggressive as some other animals, they can attack if provoked. There was a calf with this small herd which can put at least the mother more on edge than would otherwise be the case. Nothing extraordinary happened, but we did keep a watchful eye on each other while we were there.

For probably the first time since going to NNP, we saw no lions. But with all the other animals we did see and the natural beauty of the park, it didn’t take away from the enjoyment. We never want to take this sort of thing for granted.

Mogadishu

Within a couple of days of arriving in Nairobi, I would need to return to Mogadishu. I had loads of meetings to attend and we were hosting a staff training and retreat. Morale has been a challenge given all the funding cuts and staff terminations, and it has been important to keep the remaining team motivated and aware of what is going on.

The first few days went well. I was bouncing from meeting to meeting and trying to catch up with all that had transpired while I was away on leave. The weather, normally extremely hot, was actually quite pleasant.

At the end of the first week that I was there, I began to feel sick. I had body aches and congestion. I had a small fever that came and went from time to time. No appetite – almost three days with only water. I wasn’t sure what it was, but as the days went by, I didn’t get better. The following Monday I had the driver take me to the UN medical facility in the “green zone”. For security reasons, I can’t just drop in at any health facility in Mogadishu and get checked out.

I met with a UN doctor who ran some tests and all ended up being negative. It was comforting to find out that I didn’t have any of the likely disease candidates, but also disconcerting to still not know what it was.

In the end, the doctor suggested that I had a viral flu. I don’t think he really knew what it was so viral flu was probably the default diagnosis. If it was indeed a flu, it was unlike any flu I’ve had. It more resembled the malaria I had in Côte d’Ivoire many years ago, though not as bad. And it has taken a few weeks to fully get past it.

* * *

The second week I was there, I pushed through multiple meetings, many that required me to have prepared remarks. I would return to the guesthouse each evening thoroughly exhausted.

Security in Mogadishu has been better the past few months. There is the occasional gunfire and, less frequently, mortar attack in the direction of the airport or a government facility. I was informed that they are migrating to rockets rather than mortars so, allegedly, the last time I was there during an attack, the sound I heard was a series of five rocket blasts. Rockets tend to be more accurate, which is good news for most in the city given that it supposedly decreases the chance of being hit by a misguided mortar shell.

* * *

While I was still feeling well. The beautiful waters of Mogadishu.

There was one day when I had booked a vehicle to go into the “green zone” to go for a walk and get some fresh air. With such strict security protocols, one ends up staying indoors most of the time. It’s a luxury to go to a place where I have sufficient security to simply walk outdoors. I felt a bit better that particular morning and it was so nice to be outside and getting a little exercise. I apparently overdid it, however, and felt much worse over the subsequent two days or so. There’s a part of me that feels that it was worth it.

nice view of Mt. Kilimanjaro on the flight home

Idaho

We arrived at midnight after our travel from Chicago. My generous sister was there to pick us up given that the car rental companies are often closed at that hour (and we’ve been burned before by such things). All our bags arrived and we made our way to her house for just one day. It gave us a chance to regroup after the late night and prepare for heading to the mountains the following day.

The Idaho schedule would be rather tight given all that we wanted to do while we were there. It’s always a combination of doing some things that we want to do, merging that with plans that my family have and accepting that there won’t be time for everything. There isn’t a lot of down time but, I guess for now that’s not what these trips are about. Maybe someday.

Deep Lake

As it worked out, we would need to fit our backpack trip in within the first few days of arriving or we wouldn’t have time for it. There is a certain amount of preparation involved, going to storage, making sure all our gear is in order, buying food, etc. We have done this enough that it’s pretty smooth, but there is always some tweaking from what we did the previous year.

Indeed, we have been doing these backpack trips for many years. Though I hiked to lakes quite a bit in my younger years, I began doing an annual summer trip starting in 2008, not long after Priya and I were married. With the exception of a 5-year gap when we had babies, and another year off during Covid, we’ve been fairly consistent in squeezing in a trek each year.

Initially, the idea was to explore central Idaho and target a different lake each year. Back in 2023, for whatever reason we decided to repeat the trip to the same lake. And then in 2024 we went there again. This year made it the fourth year in a row. In the process, I think we have become attached to the place.

Deep Lake is about 45 minutes north of the town of McCall. The majority of the drive is on pavement, which is nice since we get around by rental car, and the hike itself (chosen when our girls were younger) is just a little over a mile.

a little slice of heaven

The lake is frequented by day hikers, including people walking dogs, but we’ve never had anyone else camping while we were up there. We intentionally choose to go mid-week whenever possible, which helps our chances of being alone up there. It’s not only that we like having the lake to ourselves, there are only two camping spots on the lake, and one of them is not fully on the lake. So, at least thus far, we’ve had the lake to ourselves each time we’ve been there.

low evening sun on Deep Lake and the family

This year was a treat in that my brother opted to join us. It’s been a while since we have done this sort of thing together, though we used to do it quite frequently before my Africa years. The girls were particularly excited given how much fun they have with him.

We arrived at the lake mid-afternoon on a Tuesday. It was so good being back. Without a doubt, it’s one of the high points of the year for me.

I generally enjoy setting up camp and usually take my time doing so. Coming to the same campsite each year makes it a bit more straightforward. We make small improvements each time, but it’s generally the same.

beautiful sunset

Over the two days, we spent our time relaxing, eating, jumping in the lake, reading, roasting marshmallows, etc. It’s also nice being without technology for a couple of days. It’s always a bit unsettling in the beginning to be cut off from the outside world, but eventually a peace sets in and it makes me want to do it more often.

After being subjected to a rainstorm last year, we were prepared for it to happen this year. In the end, the weather was perfect the entire time.

On Thursday, we broke camp and hiked out. We made our way back to McCall. It was my daughter’s birthday so we did our best to make it special, in spite of the fact that we were on the move. For dinner, my sister had suggested a Mexican restaurant on the lake. It began well, but then a massive storm hit. We toughed it out for a while in the outdoor seating, but eventually the wind, rain and chill caused us to retreat to the interior of the restaurant. We were so fortunate that it didn’t hit while we were still camping.

Community Garden

Last year, my brother invited us to join him in spending a morning working at the community garden in the town near where he lives. It was a big hit with the kids and it was one of the things they were looking forward to doing again this year. It worked out that we could squeeze it in our schedule. It turned out to be as enjoyable as last year, if not more so. It’s the type of thing that my daughters don’t have a chance to do – picking/cleaning vegetables. It probably doesn’t sound as entertaining for people that are around this sort of thing all the time (or if you are a manual laborer who is forced to do it for long hours for low wages trying to feed your family). But for city kids, learning about how vegetables are grown and how a community garden works, it can be fun.

the community garden ready for the community

The other cool thing about the experience is the people that work there. Half the fun was hanging out with them.

The House

our property

The next day (Saturday) I had set aside time to do some work on the property that we bought a few years ago. I had intended on my daughters joining in and do some more work, but as our schedule was unfolding, it gradually became clear that they needed a bit of a break. We’d been pushing them pretty hard and they needed some down time. I think Priya did too. So I headed out on my own. The plan was to work until lunchtime and then meet my brother at the local bar/restaurant. Though it didn’t go entirely to plan (I ended up getting a later start than I anticipated), I did get a lot done. 

our house

Boise

On Sunday, we headed back to Boise. It’s a roughly two-and-a-half-hour drive, much of which is quite beautiful. We had time to run a few errands when we arrived and then my sister hosted a family gathering for those who could make it. It was a chill evening and nice to connect with family. My nieces and nephews are all grown and it’s cool to see them all as grown-ups.

Kimberly

On Monday, we were on the road again to stay with my parents for a few days. It would be a mix of work and play. My siblings and I have a WhatsApp group and I have been tracking the support each have been providing over the past months. It’s been an eventful, and sometimes very difficult period, as my parents have been battling health issues and are teetering on the edge of no longer being able to live independently. My sisters and brother have been working hard to set them up with home care and other support to enable them to continue to stay in their home. But the efforts have, strangely and irrationally, been fraught with some resistance. I think it’s a combination of reluctance to accept that one is in a new phase of dependence which is overlapping with the reluctance to accept necessary support for this dependence.

Shoshone Falls with lower water flow late summer

I say “irrational” given that the elderly in most of the world embrace the support provided by family, home care professionals, etc. In Somalia, and in most of Africa, this arrangement is expected. The elderly are treated with respect and culture dictates that they are cared for adequately, even if they need to accept the relinquishment of some agency. To shrug off this support would be to go against of a culture of honor. My guess is that for my parents, particularly my father, his honor is tied to agency and that is paramount, even if it is at the expense of relationships and even at the expense of his own well-being. It’s something that doesn't make sense to most of the world, but probably not uncommon in the US. I'm not sure how I will be at that age, but certainly, aging is not for the faint of heart. 

landscaping

Anyway, we enjoyed our time with the family. At one point we had all seven of us together for a dinner. Not sure when that will happen again. 

I’m not around that much so I wanted to just lower my head and contribute as much as I could in the time that I had. My sister had previously set up the installation of automatic sprinklers and we followed it up with some landscaping designed to suppress weeds growing in the flower beds in keeping with this theme of helping the parents remain “independent” and limiting the amount of gardening that needs to be done. I pruned trees, pulled weeds, took aluminum to the recycling center, etc. At the end of the week, I admittedly was exhausted. Interestingly, around this time I read a relevant quote from one of my favorite authors, C. S. Lewis: “… though I get no more tired now than I did when I was younger, I take much longer to get un-tired afterwards.” Turns out that he was my age when he wrote that.

Kinaya's rock jumping form

Kiran's form

We did find time for some fun. As I did when I was a kid, we went to the canyon to do some swimming and jump off the rocks. We also went to the local fair followed by the rodeo. I’m not sure why, but we all seem to enjoy this little slice of Americana.

Boise

As we hit the homestretch of our vacation, we would return to Boise. Given it is the last stop on our month-long journey, it always involves last-minute errands and picking up things to take back to Nairobi. My niece organized a dinner by the river, with us making our way to the restaurant on e-scooters. It’s not something I had done before but it was pretty fun.

The city has changed so much. In the area where our restaurant was, the change has been particularly striking. I lived in Boise for several years and I didn’t recognize most of what I was seeing.

the girls on scooters

After a couple of evenings with family, it was time to board our plane. We had a 3am wake-up to catch our flight. It was a small hint to what would be waiting for me back in Nairobi as I would traveling to Mogadishu within the first couple of days after our return.

CDG Again

Our first flight would take us through Minneapolis where we would meet up with our friend Kathy and also connect with my mother-in-law (MIL) who would join us in our return to Nairobi. It was a nice break and fun to hang out for a bit, but soon we would be on our way to Paris.

I have ranted in the past about Charles de Gaulle Airport (CDG) in France (last December, specifically). While it has some beautiful interior design in various places, it’s poorly organized and, at least when I have traveled through there, poorly run. Last year we were mistakenly bused to, and were boarded onto, the wrong airplane. And I’ve had other issues there over the years. This time, they came up with a new and rather traumatizing one.

I'm leaving out some details, but the short of it is that my MIL had an accident recently and had injured her foot. She’s 84 so an injury to the heel can really impede mobility. So we arranged for her to have wheelchair support as we transferred from our arrival gate to our next departure gate. After we exited our plane, the wheelchair support was there. They told us that the wheelchair transfer doesn’t follow the normal passenger flow. We were told that we should go the normal way and just meet her at our departure gate. Priya stayed back to make sure that all was well and I headed out with the girls towards the tram, security check, etc. After about 20 minutes, we arrived at our gate. I assumed it would take the wheelchair service a bit longer, so I bought a cappuccino, a couple of hot chocolates and some pricey snacks and we waited. After some time, Priya showed up without MIL. We asked some airport staff why it was taking so long and they said not to worry, that she would be arriving shortly.

Shortly didn’t happen and soon our flight to Nairobi was beginning to board. It had now been a couple of hours since we parted ways at the arrival gate and there was still no sign of MIL. We kept bothering the airport staff but they didn’t have any answers. Thankfully, we were all speaking French so there would be no excuse that they didn’t understand what was going on. It was extremely stressful.

Finally, after our plane was half-boarded, a limping MIL came up the concourse rather traumatized and without a chair. Needless to say, we were glad to finally see her. As we made our way to the plane, we tried to get the full story as to what happened to her AND get on the plane before they closed the gate. By now, airport staff were apologetic, and they ushered us to the front of the queue.

Apparently, what happened was that the person that escorted her from the arrival gate took her as far as a basement someplace where, supposedly, there would be another person who would escort her to the departure gate. This didn’t happen and she, and I think some others, were simply abandoned. She ended up giving up hope that someone was coming and made it the remainder of the way on foot.

It could be just bad luck that so many stupid things happen to us at CDG. Or it could be that they collectively don’t take their jobs seriously. I don’t know. But unless you are traveling to France (which I still love), avoid CDG. Unless, of course, you have a relative that you would like to get rid of.

Michigan

Other than the airport in Detroit, I’ve only been to Michigan once before. Many years ago I was invited by my brother to join him as his sailing team were competing in a race from Chicago (where he was based) across Lake Michigan to St. Joseph. It was super interesting for me given that I had never been on a sailboat. I realized quickly that my lack of skills would relegate me to the role of ballast. Which was fine with me. But throughout my time on the boat, I could really see the appeal of sailing. Not a likely pastime for me, however. I think that ship has sailed.

* * *

We arrived at the house early in the evening. The property is located in a gated community and after making our way through the entrance of the compound, it became clear that we were going to have plenty of activities available to us. On the left was a 9-hole golf course. After that, on the left were tennis and pickleball courts. On the right was a lake with a couple of kayakers. After the lake there were some basketball courts on the right. And so on.

We parked the car and carried our bags a short distance to the house. Decent-sized waves crashed into the rocks lining the lakefront. The air was pleasantly cool after the hotter temperatures of southern Indiana. We climbed the steps to the main entrance and proceeded to settle into our respective rooms. We were fortunate enough to have one on the lakeside of the house offering stunning views over the shimmering water. 

The house, built around 1900, had a comfortable, lived-in feeling. Family history was apparent in the décor and furnishings. It’s a charm you don’t find in more modern, sterile residences.
The house was able to absorb the twelve of us, albeit with one inflatable mattress. It’s a lot of people for a house that size but it ended up working out okay. 

As is our custom this time of day, we put on a kettle and started off with some tea while we took in the view. The early evening sun reflected off the lake and a couple of barges floated by in the distance. We had a brief orientation as to the rules we needed to pay attention to within the community, what activities were on offer (life jackets, golf clubs, oars, towels, etc.). 

Over the course of about three and a half days, we would eat well and bounce from one activity to the next. My kind of vacation. I did find a bit of time to read, but most of the time we were either on the go or sitting around catching up with each other. 

* * *

We were told when we arrived that at some point during the week, there would be a frog race. In fact, frog and turtle races. I’ve heard of such things, but I’ve never witnessed them before. This would be the last such event of the “season”. 

Apparently, this is an age-old tradition in this community, and it persists thanks to dozens of little kids (and their parents) that no doubt look forward to this each week. We were told that there are others in the community, however, that would like to see this tradition put to a halt, likely pointing out the cruelty to the little creatures. 

Having invested about a half-hour of my life observing the event, I don’t feel strongly one way or the other. On one hand, the passion of the kids for these races was palpable. I was picturing myself as a kid totally getting into this sort of thing. I also have a healthy respect for tradition. It’s sort of cool that this goes back decades and I heard parents talking about searching for frogs in the nearby swamp with the hopes of winning a blue ribbon. On the other hand, it’s not without potential carnage. I saw one frog slip through a little kid’s fingers and make his way under a nearby car The kid tried desperately to find it but eventually gave up. In all likelihood, the parking lot was the beginning of the end for the escapee. I’m guessing that others experience similar fates. Even if you don’t meet your demise under a radial tire, the whole thing involves a lot of trauma for the little creatures, even if they do eventually make their way back to the swamp. 

* * *

One evening we decided to check out the nearby lighthouse. It’s a prominent landmark featured on refrigerator magnets and local calendars. Still operational over a hundred years old after it was first lit, it sits at the end of a mile-long jetty. It was a pleasant evening, and after making our way out to the old structure, we stayed there for a while enjoying the evening. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon and appeared to be heading our way. The water was quite rough and as we look out, we noticed what appeared to be a woman on a paddleboard way off in the distance. It was hard to believe someone would be so far out in this weather. And she was heading farther out. At one point, a Coast Guard boat spotted her and appeared to offer her help. She waved them off and carried on. 

By now the storm was bearing down on us so we began to move quickly back down the jetty towards the shore. Finally, the paddleboarder also began to make her way to shore. As she came closer, we could tell she was no ordinary paddleboarder. She had some sort of special competition board with lights for boarding in the dark. Even from a distance you could tell she was a serious athlete. We worried about her for no reason. And yes, we were soon dumped on by a massive rainstorm.

* * *

Sadly, the fun and games came to an end. On Saturday, needed to get an early start for our four-hour plus drive to get to O’Hare Airport in order to catch an afternoon flight to Boise (via Minneapolis). 
All of the logistics meant a considerable amount of time on the road, maybe not by American standards. It seemed like a lot to us since we’re not used to it. But overall it worked out okay. If we have the opportunity to do this again next year, we may need to re-think the itinerary and logistics.