I seem to do my best writing, some of my only writing these days, when I’m at least 30,000 feet above the ground sitting still in one stationary position with few distractions.
I’m on an airplane sitting next to my mother who has been planning a trip to Kenya with her foundation, Women Like Us, for more than two years. Most of those two years she’s been asking if I’d go along. Anyone who knows me knows I absolutely love stamping my passport but this trip to Nairobi, I know will be different.
I’ve traveled through most parts of Europe but this will be my first time to Africa. As part of our all women-lead humanitarian efforts (there are 17 of us) we’ll be spending most of our time just outside Nairobi, and mostly in the Masai Mara region.
So here’s the thing. I’m going because well, mostly because I am so proud of my mother and her mission to support other women around the world who are making change. I’m going because I too want to see the faces of those in need and want to provide some type of help. To be honest, at this moment, I’m not sure what form that help will come in. A smile and a warm hug. A new friendship, perhaps? Maybe it’s in the physical. The supplies we’ve packed to deliver to a number of schools in the area, the clean underwear some of these teens so desperately need. You know, the kind we take for granted?
Truth is, in many ways I don’t know what to expect but in my soul I feel like I’m embarking on what is likely to be a radical journey and a wildly eye-opening experience. I am so grateful to have this opportunity at all. Traveling, for me, means gaining perspective. How do my other human brothers and sisters have it? What are their struggles? What are their triumphs? How are we different? How are we surprisingly so similar? What do the plains of Kenya look like? How gorgeous is its wildlife? Will the stars shine the same when I lie my head down at night?
I’m ready. Ready to dive in and thankful for the unknown. I anticipate stories to be shared. I expect love to be shared. I await miracles!