Missing my Sisters

This is Anita Home for girls. It's located near Karen in the Ngong hills. One of the most beautiful places in Kenya. It's where the marathon runners train. And where Karen Blixen, the author of Out of Africa, had her coffee farm. We spent a couple of afternoons here. The first time we came, we helped the girls roll out soft circles of dough, coated them with oil, and roasted them over small fires. This simple food is called chipotti and it's delicious. My husband just bought a cast iron pan so we can try to make it here at home. I remember thinking at the time that if I had been in my regular life in the US, rolling out dough would have felt like a chore, but the afternoon I spent making chipotti with these girls was one of the most enjoyable of my life. The simplicity of the day was like a rare gift. We chatted together as we worked. There was no big press for time, no to do list, no next thing on the schedule. Just the laughter of the girls, music coming from their radio, birds and breeze and a cow in the background. The colors were purple and gray and green. The girls danced and chattered. They asked us questions and we asked them back. They teased each other like sisters and welcomed us into their family. And I had a strong feeling of being home. I remember thinking that I'd like to spend a lot more afternoons there with Purity and Janet. Lucy & Zapporah. Josefine and Angel. Esther ...there was something really inviting about a simple life alongside them. Maybe I am just being romantic. But today I'm missing those Anita girls and longing to go home to them. Nothing I have to do today feels as valuable as that chipotti we made together.