MOMBASA DIARY: Chronicles of a Woman in Search of Herself. Part Two: Day Four: Friday 19th April 2013.

Sea and Sand; Dancing together though Daring to Differ. Friendships should do that too.

When the oceans rise and thunders roar, I will soar with you above the storm, Father you are king over the flood, I will be still know you are God- Hillsong.

At sunset, we head down to Mama Ngina drive which lies on the shores of the Indian ocean, just before the Likoni Ferry area.
Mama Ngina drive’s breathtaking beauty in the evening could be mistaken for a scene out of a classic Tom Cruise movie (lemme add that I am talking about the movie ‘Top Gun’ here). The street is filled with bright street lights, sweet aroma from the roadside fresh crisps vendors and the cool sea breeze that lowers the temperature of the land.

The continental slope here is terraced and one can sit on these terraces and stare into the deep blue sea and at the steep rock cliffs that are constantly kissed by the swash and backwash waves.
We buy huge bags of warm, freshly fried cassava crisps and settle at a terrace on the raised continental slope, feet hanging in the air above the moving tides.

The horizon is tinged with orange and a deep crimson and it seems to touch the sea at a distant place which is magical and beyond human comprehension.

We voice our plans to visit Sue’s sister and a close friend Tuechy in Uganda, we speak of past years, realized dreams and shattered ones. We discuss our favorite songs and movies. We talk of God, and of our purpose in this world. We speak about love and heartbreaks and offer each other unsolicited advice and encouragement.
I stare at the fine-looking coral rocks and wonder how old they could be. (Coral reefs are formed when ocean creatures called corals, die and accumulate over the years, to form hard rocks called reefs)

The night moves in, slowly, imperceptibly, boldly.

A passenger ship passes by and hoots. Makes me think of Sinbad the Traveler.

Underneath, the sea waves are hitting the cliffs rather soundly and eroding its walls by hydraulic action.

As darkness settles in and terrestrial radiation starts lowering the temperatures, we sit still, for we do not want to stain the golden hush with words. The silence between old friends acts as an invisible cloak of reassurance. That friendship does not need words to define it, and that even when used, words cannot be enough. For good friends are bound by imperceptible chords of akin memories.
My thoughts float off, through the vast ocean to another dear friend from high school, Olivia. Tucked away in far-away Cincinatti, studying to become a marriage counseling psychologist. I think of a treasured goodbye gift she gave me years ago; a handmade bookmark of a sea at sunset,with my favorite Hillsong United song ‘still’ printed .

Hide me now, under your wings, cover me, within your mighty hand
When the oceans rise and thunders roar, I will soar with you above the storm,
father you are king over the flood, I will be still, know you are God
Find rest my soul, in Christ alone; know his power, in quietness and trust.

We say goodbye and leave. Her to South Coast. Me, to the dear little white walled hotel room in town that has become my home, for now.

Later that night, I get out my writing pad and complete two letters I began writing while in Baringo. One to Hoima, Uganda and the other to Cincinnati, Ohio.

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