My Last Blog Post

That last post proved prophetically ironic.

The beauty of writing is that it forces you to articulate your ideas. Vague feelings that were swirling around in your mind must be crystallized into something accessible enough for another human to understand. Sometimes, you start to write something about a particular topic only to discover your true feeling about it only when your fingers start hitting the keyboard.

I was planning on calling this post "My Visit to the Sub-County Hospital." I planned on describing a recent experience I had getting an ear infection treated. But as I started to type, I felt a tightening in my stomach followed by anxiety. I've felt this way before writing previous  posts. Usually I tell myself to just get it over with with the knowledge that the stress will go away once I'm done...until it's time for another post! I realized the absurdity of the situation. This blog was starting to feel like something to  I coerced myself into doing.

To be clear, there are plenty of things in life that should be done regardless of the pain, because of their benefits (getting up early, working out, staying away from junk food, cleaning up around the house...). However, painful and/or stressful activities of limited value should be eliminated, unless of course you're into masochism.

Maintaining this blog adds to my stress and I feel it is of limited value. 

There is something really annoying about feeling as though I must carefully catalog my experiences during my stay in Kenya, the notion that every outing and moment must be packaged and sold as something sexier than it really is. Everytime I open up this web page, I feel as if I'm expected to recount some amazing African adventure full of leopards, lions, wacky backward locals, or some epiphany about coming back home a "changed person". At the moment, I feel as though I have enough on my plate without having to twist and torture reality.

If you're reading this as a friend of mine and really want to know about my time here, we'll shoot the shit over a beer someday.

I'm happy I gave it a try.

In my journey through manhood, I've learn the importance not being too quick to dismiss suggestions offhand. I've slowly developed the habit of giving the opinions of others a fair hearing, despite my initial reaction. This has proven valuable. For instance, a friend of mine was diagnosed with leukemia and in need to financial support for the treatment. I had already given him a lot of money but that was still not enough and we began to brainstorm other options. He suggested that I reach out to those I knew from back home for donations. My initial reaction was, "hell no, people will think it's a scam just like those Nigerian princes...no one will give anyway...plus there's a lot of work that needs to be put it..and so on and so forth..." I slept on it and realized it was worth a shot. We gave it our 110% and ended up succeeding in raising enough money to give him a fighting chance.

Less dramatically, but still in the same spirit, prior to my departure to Africa, many people suggested that I start a blog chronicling my trip. My gut reaction was, "hell no, I don't feel like it, what a lame idea, I just wanna do my thing." But experience has shown me that an unwillingness to open up to new ideas can cost you big time. So I decided to give it a shot. 

A problem I realized early on in writing a blog dedicated to my time in Africa (but tried to ignore) was the inseparability of my daily experiences into neat categories. In what way does an experience count as "Kenyan" rather an a commentary on the human condition in general? Obviously, an easy solution would be to write only about things that would strike readers are foreign but that's not how my mind works or how I remember things. The fact is that I have been living in the same town for 4 months now and the sights and sounds I'm exposed to on a daily basis no longer strike me as odd. I don't see any "Africans", I just see people doing their best to survive based on the cards they've been dealt, rolling with the punches.

As much I love writing, I'd prefer to do it on my own terms, sometimes from the perspective of a stranger in a strange land and at other times philosophizing about the universal. I feel that this blog is not the place to do it. And as I stated before, I'm just don't feel like filtering through and chronicling experiences that quality as "touristy." 

If everyone's life is a tree, then "Kenyan Impressions" was a branch on mine that had to be pruned, making room for bigger and better things to grow.

Stay in touch

I will be back in Montreal for the holidays in December.

Until then, you can always email me (adamaberra@hotmail.com) or shoot me a line on Facebook.