The weather today had me thinking of "home" again. It's a drippy kind of rain with temps somewhere in the 50's. All that was missing was the red clay tracked throughout the house. Though my boarding school experience wasn't all that blissful--it has, however, recently come to my attention that everyone had a lousy childhood and most of my classmates were suffering as well--I could not fault the location. Tucked up in the Kenyan hills overlooking the Great Rift Valley, concrete block buildings that never really seemed to lose the chill, fog in the morning--freezing in gym class and huddled around the space heater in art. I still wrap up in my kikoi when it's cold.
I now sit here with a cup of chai--the real thing (not Starbucks' spiced swill they've been duping the masses with) minus the infusion of smoke from the fire under the dented pot.
Tea, water, milk, sugar. Boil all together--careful not to boil over--pour, wrap cold hands around the cup, blow just a little and enjoy. Best enjoyed under the African stars, sitting around a fire listening to Masai Moranni singing their lion song.