Following plans for an already, tiringly hectic summer before heading of to Uni in Lincoln, mum approached me with the idea of a two week holiday of a lifetime in Kenya- with just the family. To me, this idea sounded out of this world. And after spending a month in Kenya the summer prior on a school project, under the company ‘camps international’ the desire go back to Africa had been prominent in my mind since the day I returned from the trip.
Yet as I thought more into the trip the four of us were going to take together, me, my 14 year old sister Remi, my mum Keeley and my step dad Paul, I realised the trip was most likely to be the complete opposite of the events I underwent with school mates the year before. From two to ten man tents, to a luxurious hotel, from working with children and building orphanages – to countless days of safari and picnics in the Masai Mara, and the appeal of this trip slowly started to deteriorate to me. Was this really Kenya? No, just the Kenya that the tourists would like to see
To me, this was not ‘real Kenya’ or indeed the Kenya that I had experienced on the months expedition. After witnessing countless accounts of poverty and hardships and working with the local communities – the poor, to help better there standard of living, I just didn’t see how going there to enjoy Kenya’s luxuries; the beaches of the coast of Mombasa and the beautiful wildlife in the Masai Mara was going to settle with me. It just didn’t feel right.
I decided to approach the mother with this mind set and tried to make her understand that this wasn’t the type of Kenya I wanted to visit and that I didn’t want another trip there to replace the beautiful memories that I had from my previous expedition, up to now – the most mentally challenging but rewarding period of my life.
(to be continued)