On the Final Trip to Kenya - Val's Story, Chap 13, part 2

All our previous trips to Kenya involved at least some volunteer work. We ambitiously built a chicken coop, taught about the life cycle of chickens and rabbits at one of the schools, or cleaned storage rooms at the volunteer house. Other times, we talked with our partners in Nairobi about how to proceed with current and future projects to help various schools, orphanages, or villages. With Val’s nonprofit no longer viable, we told our Kenyan friends this trip would be just our vacation.

Our flights into Nairobi always arrive late at night, usually around midnight. Again, just like on all the other trips, we got to our accommodation in the wee hours of the morning, slept for a couple of hours, got up by noon, and started our day. We spent the first day shopping for supplies (mostly snacks) and visiting with our friends who run their own nonprofit there.

          Early the next morning, we piled into the safari van for the long ride out to the Maasai Mara. We weren’t going on safari this time; we’d all done that enough times. We just wanted to be out on the African plains, relaxing at the safari camp and enjoying the views. And for Val, drinking Tusker, the Kenyan beer.

          One night we sat outside watching the beautiful sunset, the crepuscular rays of light reaching to heaven. Val told us that when she was a little kid and saw those glowing yellow-orange rays in the sky, she thought they were people’s souls in Manila envelopes ascending to heaven.    

          At the time, we laughed, thinking it was pretty silly. But three years later, I would never look at a sunset the same way.

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 The entire time we were in Africa, Val continued to drink every chance she got. Whether we were going out for dinner or stopping for a snack at a place with Wi-Fi we could use, she ordered a drink or two. A few times she was out until late at night with our friends.

          After a few days in Nairobi, we took the short plane flight to the coastal city of Mombasa, where Val had rented us an Airbnb for a few days. The view of the Indian Ocean outside of our door was breathtaking. Unfortunately, we couldn’t leave that door open as the neighborhood monkeys would run inside to scavenge any food we had laid out. We thought they were cute at first, but their boldness soon got on our nerves.

          Our first afternoon there, we walked to a beachside bar for drinks, then on to a store for groceries. Val bought a liter bottle of gin and a bottle of wine. Denise may have had a drink or two, while I only had sips, but all of the alcohol was gone within two days.

          It seemed like such a waste to me. We had such a good time – walking along the beach, meeting a group of boys who showed us starfish, sea anemones, and other sea creatures, taking a glass-bottomed boat ride out to a sand bar. So much to take in and enjoy. Why did Val feel she needed to be drunk the entire time?

          She told me that this was her vacation and she wanted to enjoy herself. When I looked at her disheveled hair and puffy face every morning, I couldn’t believe that this was what fun meant to her.    

         On our last night at the beach, we went out to eat at a nice restaurant and had a delicious meal. Denise and I each had a glass of wine, while Val powered through an entire arsenal of whatever she was drinking.

When we got back to the rental, it was already late, but Val insisted on walking to the bar a block away. Even though I had already gotten ready for bed, I threw my clothes back on and went with her, much to her wrath.

I sat quietly at the bar, nursing a glass of pineapple juice, while she shot pool and did shots with the three young men there. They were respectful, even when Val practically threw herself at them. They would look my way, understanding that Momma Bear was on duty.

When it was time for the bar to shut down, someone offered to get us a taxi. I told him we were staying only a block away and would make it just fine. I managed to trip on the sill of the doorway as we were leaving, while somehow Val walked just fine. That is, until we were halfway to the cottage, and she looked up to gaze at the carpet of stars in the black sky above us.

          She laughed as she lost her balance, and I caught her.

          We flew back to Nairobi the next day and back home two days later. I was so thankful my friend Denise had come on the trip for support, and I'd never been happier to get my feet back on American soil. At least once a day while we were in Kenya, a horrible question ran through my brain. How would we get my daughter’s body home if she dies of alcohol poisoning while halfway around the world?