Re-entry to Kenya has been trickier than usual after our lovely skiing holiday. To be honest, it has felt rather boring. We spent this Easter unusually at home, not travelling, no family or friends to stay, so it was quiet....to say the least.
On Saturday night I was struck by an idea. We should all to go to church! The one problem with my plan was which Nairobi church to choose?
Once, struck by a similar mood, we tried St Francis Church near our house. We pitched up for the 'youth service' thinking, sunday school for the kids etc. Our 3 little girls were trussed up in smock dresses by me (this was some years ago), only to find an empty church. The 'Youth Service' was actually taking place in a hall behind the church and comprised of teenagers singing into microphones. Last year we were in England so went to a lovely village service near my sister's home. The sun streamed in through the windows, the church was full of primroses and afterwards the female vicar offered mini-eggs to all the children.
Another local option near us is The Vineyard church - but I was looking for something more traditional. On Sunday morning, we looked up the Childrens Church, Westlands on the internet and learned that services take place at around 10am. At 9.30 we left home in a flurry of breakfast things, hotcross buns and chocolate, to find the place - it was quite a drive but fortunately on Easter morning the traffic was clear.
When we arrived at 10 we discovered that the service had begun at 9.15. Next, on my insistence and not wanting to waste a trip, we tried the Cathedral - even further to drive, to find, once again, a packed church and a service already in full swing. The whole plan was typical me - critically flawed, ie. without proper planning and preparation. My husband was feeling ill with a sore tummy anyway so we went home. The round trip had taken more than an hour.
Once we got home he took to his bed and I started hand-washing the borrowed ski gear, sloshing water all over our kitchen floor. Our eldest whined that the Easter Bunny was taking his sweet time to come round to visit. I was elbow deep in suds. My husband was feeling worse and locked himself in the loo.
Later, after the Easter bunny had thankfully arrived, the girls and I ate at home the picnic that we were supposed to have been taking into Nairobi National Park for an Easter outing. The power was off all day. By 4pm I cracked. I called my husband out of bed to switch on the generator (it only starts with a rope pull and I can never manage it) and put on a dvd for the kids.
I guess you need these down days sometimes, I reasoned to myself, especially after particularly fun holidays.
My friend in England sent a happy easter text. When I moaned she responded, 'it can't be fun and games all the time,' adding, '.....I have now officially turned into my mother.
On monday, all was better - we had friends with children over for lunch and shared lots of laughs.
Now the sun is shining and the worst of the rain seems to be over or at least it rains only at night (which always makes me feel so bad for the nightwatchman who is dutifully stationed outside doing what is quite possibly the worst job in the world). There's still nearly 2 weeks more school holidays, but funnily enough, the children have been fine with hanging around at home doing nothing much at all. It has only been me with itchy feet and now, hopefully, I'm over it.
Am thinking of going to see our ex-nightwatchman's Kibera based HIV awareness project, which is finally off the ground, later in the week. He is running some training workshops and invited us but I am not sure if I/we will simply get in the way. We missed the launch of his project because we were skiing, I also would have to fit the visit around a hair appointment - I ask you, how can two worlds be any more different?