Oneliner

Thursday 21^st August 2007

Rrrrr. Alarm clock. 8:00am. Bed. Tossing. Turning. Temptation. Sleep more? Want to. Can’t. Big Day. Arise. Groggy. Breakfast table. Sad. Excited. Confused. Away? 1 year? Silent meal.

Room. Quiet Time. Psalm 139. Reflection. Peace. Smile. Heartfelt prayer. Guitar. Hillsongs. Still. He knows.

Time to pack. Suitcase. Bed. Calculations. Frenzy. T-shirts. Four? Five? Trousers. Jeans? Cotton? African Shirts. Belt. Socks. Underwear. Bed Sheets. Toothbrush. Shoe brush. Socks. Shoes. One pair? Two pairs? Slippers. Tissue? Bible. Diary. Daily Bread. Guitar Sheets. Guitar? Air ticket. Passport. Yellow fever immunization card. Wallet. Toothpaste. Soap. Glasses. Cd’s. Discman. Too heavy? Too light?

1:00 pm

Sitting room. Prayer. Dad. Mum. Siblings. Car. Jogoo Road. No traffic jam. Chitchat. Uneasy. Donholm Round-about. Slight traffic. Fedha Estate. Snaking along. Avenue park. Embakasi Roundabout. Jomo Kenyatta International Airport premises. Airport sounds. Earshot. Many people. Many cars. Parking. Luggage. Trolley. Pushing. Heavy. Brother. Help. Emirates Airways entrance. Faith Muthoni? Here? Already? At-least. Relaxation.

Check in. Glass doors. Officers. Bright yellow sweaters. My bags. Searched. Cleared. Counter. Faith Muthoni’s father. Hustling for us. How lucky. My bag 17.3 kg. Surprise. No worries; Emirates. 40kg. Maximum.

Outside. Glance. Sing Africans. Thirty strong. Walk outside. My Dad. FM’s dad conversing. My siblings. Together. Suddenly! Enoch. Youngest Brother. Tears. More tears. Can’t hold back. Embrace. His tears. My shirt. My tears. Bubbling in me. My neck. Big lump. Pure anguish. 1 year? I must be crazy! Thirty minutes. Final hugs. Dad. Mum. First brother. Sister. Youngest brother.

Sing Africa. Brief fellowship. Rudy Apidi. Comical as usual. Catherine (chairlady). Encouragement. Prayer. Final hugs. More tears. Email addresses. Promises. Keep in touch.

5:00 pm.

Aircraft loading zone. My friends and I. Waiting. Pensively. Overhead speakers. EK 720. Our flight. Queuing. Enter plane. Great décor. Economy class. Aisle seat. Mark, my front. Zack and Maren. Behind me. Faith on my left. Cute airhostesses. Suddenly! Overhead speakers. Captain’s voice. Seat belts. Short silent prayer. Slow movement…Momentum…terrific speed…In the air. Rising, rising, rising...

Glance to my left. Spectacular sight. Flawless white clouds; delicately caressed by the rays of the sun. Peaceful Sight. Dinner. Uneasy sleep. Overhead speakers. Seatbelts. Dubai? Already? Land. Stepping out. Heat. Burning. Desert…Customs. Airport. Duty free mall. People; Africans, Arabs, Indians, Americans… Cosmopolitan helter-skelter. Shops. Bargains. Elegance. Opulence. Materialism.

Friday 23^rd August, 3:00 am.

Loud speakers. EK 720. Departure time. Plane. 16 hours? Lord give me grace. Kind Asian hostesses. Overhead speakers. Captain. Seatbelts. Takeoff. Movie? Boring. Drift. Sleepfulness. Wakefulness. Sleepfulness. Urrghhh! Breakfast. In-flight movie. In-flight games. In-flight restlessness. Four hours to go. Seconds lazily ticking. Two hours to go. Anticipation rising. Thirty minutes. Ten minutes. Five minutes. Speakers. Seatbelts. Landing. At last! South Korea. Seoul International Airport.

Checkout. Bags. Trolley. Pushing. Airport. ENORMOUS. People. Thousands? Hundred thousands? Sea. Sea of white faces. Fast walking. Fast talking. Small eyes. Staring eyes. Incomprehensible billboards. Gibberish language. What a welcome?

7:25 pm.

Check in. Short wait. Final flight. Simple yet elegant plane. Few people. One hour flight. No stories. Too tired. Glance to window on my left. Beautiful stars above. Countless lights below. Smile on my face. Delight in my heart. T.I.A. This Is Asia…

8:55 pm

Smooth landing. Stepping out. Hot summer breeze. Sweeping gaze. Familiar face? Unbelievable. Benson Kamary. Mrs. Martha Kiarie. George Omondi. Dozen Koreans. Approximately. Wildly waving. Camera flashes. Beautiful banner. “Kosin University Welcomes You”. All this for us? Hugs. Reunion. “Welcome to South Korea”. Short prayer. Thanks to Yahweh. Into the car. Driven away. To the unknown. A new chapter. Destiny awaits.

The Korean spirit is one of great humility and generosity. Docility is their forte and many instances in history have proven to the world this point. The most painfully etched in their memories is the colonisation by Japan in the early 1900's. This has psychological ramifications even to the present age. Living among them i am amazed at the 'hate' exhibited towards their former torturors. A sense of competition pervades all their interactions whether in sports, business, fashion or politics. Maybe the African persona can borrow a leaf from the Korean psyche. Why 'gain independence' then wholly depend on Europe for everything?