Green Hills of Africa

Ernest Hemingway spent a lot of time in Kenya and wrote about his experiences in a couple books. I found one in the PC library and read it during training. Not that Hemingway is someone whose character I admire, but I do like the way he writes. This is where I came across the well-known—well, it was familiar to me, so I assume it’s not unheard of—quote: “So if you have loved some woman and some country you are very fortunate and, if you die afterwards it makes no difference.” As I am experiencing life in Kenya, it was fun to read his observations and compare them with mine. He goes on to say:

“Now, being in Africa, I was hungry for more of it, the changes of the season, the rains with no need to travel, the discomforts that you paid to make it real, the names of the trees, of the small animals, and all the birds, to know the language and have time to be in it and to move slowly. I had loved country all my life; the country was always better than the people. I could only care about people a very few at a time” (The Green Hills of Africa).

The longer I’m here the more beautiful the country seems. I am growing very fond of the hills and plants and birds and sky. It’s true that at this point I probably love the country “better than the people.” It’s not always easy to love people who shout “mzungu!” as I approach and then blatantly talk about me in their language as I walk past, or those who ask me for money or preach incorrect doctrine at me as I’m walking. But the people are part of the country, and as I get more attached to it, as I do every day, I become more attached to them.