Things I Haven't Posted

I've always tried to be consistent with my posts through out my travels, but every now and then some details would slip my mind. Or I didn't think they would work with the post that I was drafting at the time, so I would write a little note and forget about it.

Since I have been back home, I have been researching to figure out where to go next. I have a lot of notes about where to go and who to contact and as I was going through them I came across the list of "things I haven't blogged". (Yeah, it was labeled like that).

A lot of these said things on the list are not that important and I won't dwell on them. But there were a few that really stuck out and though it has been a month since I have come home, I want to write about them.

When we finally arrived to Nairobi (the first time), as my father and I were getting a taxi, we noticed these very "American" tourists (two men) who were completely over whelmed by all the locals trying to get their business. At one point they even lost each other. Dad and I laughed to ourselves and got into the taxi.

When we arrived to the hotel where we were meeting my grandfather's friend, five minutes after us came those two very "American" men. They were filling out a form at the hotel and one of the men, a bigger guy, reaches to the question "where are you from?" and proceeds to very loudly state: "TEXAS!"

When my father and I heard that we couldn't help but get excited. My dad asked the man where he was from and it turned out he didn't live that far from us. Just imagine, the chances of meeting some one from where you are.

We were just chatting about what in heavens name we were all doing in Kenya, (I mean think about it. A couple Texans in Kenya? That sounds like a recipe for trouble.) When they heard my story, the bigger man almost swelled with pride. He was so happy to learn of what I was doing.

And much like that other man I had mentioned in my "Art of Making Friends" post - the Welsh man- this Texan really made me realize how amazing people are. He didn't say much but he told me how proud he was that a young Texan like myself was doing a trip like this, and he wished me all the best.

I'm not one for superstitions, but looking back, I think that man really brought me good luck. Every now and then during my travels I would go back to that encounter and just remember that there was another person from Texas who was rooting for me and was proud of what I was doing.

A person I will probably never see again. A person whose name I don't know. A person who reminded me how proud I am to be from Texas. A person who, from the very beginning, gave me motivation to never look back.