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.