Today, at school i had to prepare a Powerpoint presentation on Kenya.
I looked through my photo archive, realizing that have already been almost three years since my goodbye and that I miss. Much.
I miss the sunburn at the foot playing barefoot, lunches to school under the blazing sun cheered by a paninazzo Pappa and Chakula, dip in the pool just back from school, the tuktuk speeding on Lamu road like a Lamborghini, trips to Che Chale, Rai international that made you see just what she wanted ... the "FUCKING KENYA POWER" when he went away the light, swahili, papaya, produce metal locker rooms, the Christmases spent at sea, the curses against the driver who always said when i called him "St. Peter's am here", my friends who were perhaps less educated but more true and sincere, the Kasuku notebooks of recycled paper at least six times, the sprite in the glass bottle that cost 30 cents, the sea, the perennial combination tshirt-shorts-thong, the sticks on your hands in school uniform and sports official Silversands, the smell of the air, the colors on the street, the little Italian spirit that was in center and that gave me security, the exams that last year there were almost weekly, the coach trips to cheer Malindi United, perhaps even being different: mzungu, French forgotten after a year in junior high, the sugar that if do not you closed hermetically we entered the ants and had to be thrown away, the hugs after the score by which I began to associate the smell of sweat to win the racket for the mosquitoes that when I opened the carousel of games on the veranda I was a massacre the pilau, the "for me one ice tea" which however was never as good as the original Estathé, the janitor who seemed Maurizio Costanzo black, Charles and all the other boys and girls, the Safaricom tab that when you wanted to be you did the bulk charge of 10 € and you lasted three months, the starry sky ...
There will also be other things, but do not come to mind.
Kenya is missing me, but I will, I'm sure.