glimpses

The girls and I hadn’t been to Nairobi for fun in months. So today, we went with my friend Stephanie for a girls’ day to explore the new mall we had heard might remind us of the US. . .it was a beautiful day of rest and laughter, milkshakes, and one-liners I never though I’d hear or say.

On the way to Nairobi, looking at a passenger beside us, the ER doctor in me felt the need to admonish the girls. “Girls, if you ever ride a piki (motorcycle) you are not allowed to ride on it with a machete in your hand.”

And so it began. We got caught in traffic 10 minutes from our destination, and then realized we had waited an extra 15 minutes, not because of an accident, but because a police officer and three other people were standing in the middle of the HIGHWAY having a conversation as cars moved slowly around them. Relationships are always more important than time here.

We walked into the mall, and I looked over at my daughter who had stopped still in her stride. Madeline’s eyes were so big, you would think I had taken them to Disney World. “Mommy, this is a-maz-ing. Can you believe everything that is here?” It was a childlike wonder that I both envied and cherish.

The girls picked out clothes for me everywhere we went. As they declared  their opinions on what was “perfect” and wrinkled their noses at what they didn’t like, I was struck by how much they are growing up. They went into dressing rooms on their own, checked prices, and meandered into stores unbidden. Today was filled with sweet glimpses of Belle in her 7 year old determination to be as old as her big sister, dancing her way to the mall music from store to store. Madeline led the way in her boots with her purse, having conversations with Stephanie and acting so grown up.

We walked away with some new shoes and clothes, and the lightness of a day well spent – not in doing or striving, but in being. As we were driving home, we had to do some off roading because of an accident on the highway. As the car maneuvered a pothole, Madeline declared from the back seat. . .

“These people might not know what to do with a big hole like that, but we’re from Kijabe, and this is no problem for us.”

She said it with a bit of pride, satisfaction, and an utter sense of normalcy.  I had had a day of wonder in small things. A day where I held the hands of my girls that will soon be too big to walk beside me.  I flashed back to days of shopping with my mom and sisters, and though the continent and currency is different, the joy of discovery and relationship is the same.

Each moment  revealed a bit more of who they are and how they continue to explore – these precious girls who continue to find wonder in a new normal on the other side of the world.