Paradise Lost

My brother and I went to a nearby park on the outskirts of Nairobi today. Dubbed "Paradise Lost," it's 54 acres of primary forest in the middle of land cleardd for farming. After paying the entry fee of 200 Kshs (roughly $3), we drove over a hill to discover a small lake in the valley below. On our side the lush jungle snaked its way down to the lakeshore. There was a small farm on the other side, naked of trees except by the lake where women washed clothes and children swam. The natually pristine kissed the ruggedly developed. I longed to jump in the water but remembered the warnings from orientation; about all kinds of water parasites that burrow into the skin. Instead my brother and I went exploring the maze of paths in the small forest, eventually coming to a large waterfall. Behind the cascade was a small cave with passages that extended about 30 meters or so into the cliff. The kid in me was quickly awakened and we had a wonderful time exploring the caverns and admiring the waterfall. As we emerged from the forest I sensed the city's air stifle the ancient bucolic aroma. Paradise wasn't quite lost; just tucked away in a hidden enclave of beautiful sylvan mystery.


Later on, my brother and I sat underneath a small pavilion, taking in the view and the cool breeze. I've never had a brother before. His name is Charles Mushogu, but his friends call him "Bobla" for his reggae musical taste (referencing Bob Marley). In some ways we are very similar. We're both 23, enjoy the outdoors, like movies, have girlfriends, dream large, think rather philosophically and aren't sure about what we want to do in life.

Yet things won't be too similar for long: his girlfriend is pregnant and due after the New Year. To support his new family he plans to move out and find well-paying work. He seems remarkably at peace with what is to come. With a distant look in his eyes he quips, "Life goes on." It certainly does. One paradise lost is another gained... or at least there's the potential. Sometimes I don't think we realize what paradise is until we lose it. And even then, maybe it never was paradise.

In a way, I have stepped onto a new path in life by coming here to Kenya. However, I plan to go a different direction when I return to the States. Having a wife and child are decisions that will continue to direct my brother's path. Someday I hope to follow that route. But for now, while our paths are still one, I suggest taking a boat out on the lake. Our muscles flex with the force of our paddles cutting through the water, bodies swaying in rhythm as two brothers press onward to a desired destination unknown.