Beyond Words

It was about halfway into my seven-week study abroad in rural Kenya that I realized I had not journaled a single time throughout the experience thus far. But even as I sat down that very evening, determined to commit some vital memories and reflections to my journal, I knew I wouldn't make much headway; there was a part of me that was opposed to trying to record this particular journey there. I wanted it to remain separate, unique, untouched by my 'ordinary' life back in upstate New York. In the end, I came away with not even one whole pageful of words.

Naturally, a radically new and world-expanding adventure can be difficult to translate into language. How do you tell someone that the sky was bigger, the air was richer, and that colors and smells and moments and smiles were more real and deep and in sharper focus? The snarkier among my readers might jab, "Just like that!" To that I must riposte that those words do not come within the farthest reaches of doing the experience justice. Watching the sunrise over a misty Mt. Suswa, drinking chai brewed over a fire (started with sticks) with the resourceful and generous forest-dwelling Dorobo people, walking beside giraffes and boating among hippos (deeply unwise - do not attempt), practicing Swahili with amused and enthusiastic locals, and so many more things which my cohort and I were able to do - words can't suffice for communicating these things.

It was difficult to accept this. Throughout the trip, I returned fruitlessly to the lined pages of my journal, determined to write down more about the experience before it completely slipped through my fingers. Even after returning home, I wrestled frustratedly with my own mind in the attempt to compose journal entries and posts which might capture the trip better. Eventually, I had to make peace with the fact that there were simply too many stories, too many people, too many struggles, too many joys, questions, doubts, wonders and more wrapped up in that seven week trip to ever wholly describe.

And yet I did journal, almost every day; I stored up so many memories in ink and paper.

Just not with words.

I've always enjoyed drawing scenes from everyday life, but - allow me to wax dramatic - something about this particular adventure set my sketching hand ablaze. I drew every single day.

So instead of attempting to describe this journey as a whole cohesive arc, I will simply invite you to sit next to me as I open up my sketchbook. This is the primary mode by which I shared my journey with friends and family upon my return. And as we flip through a few of the pages, I will briefly recount memories behind choice scenes. Together, we will follow a dotted line of moments sketched, captured in ink, graphite, and paper, tracing its way through a trip which was truly beyond words.

I understand that this might be pushing the boundaries of the "Travel Snaps" challenge. My hope is that the Vocal gods will nevertheless smile upon me (after all, these are all original photographs...of my original sketches!). But I can contentedly say that even if this does not land within the letter of the law of the prompt, it certainly aligns with the spirit of it! My intent is to genuinely share bits of my grand adventure, through the format in which I was best able to keep them.

The two scenes immediately above are from two different days of group discussions, each held in the same room. The discussions involved general processing of the study abroad experience thus far, with a particular focus on the book we were reading at the time: Elephant Memories, by the incredible Cynthia Moss. I have not the time to explore her incredible findings here, so I will just say that I HIGHLY recommend giving it a read. Elephants are unbelievably remarkable creatures, with more deep and complex inner worlds than any of us know.

This was the living room in which the professors leading the group (who happen to be my very own beloved Aunt and Uncle - but that’s another whole facet to this story!), but the space was pre-decorated by those loaning out the space. Hanging above the mantelpiece is the skull of a Buffalo - an imposing sight! Various vases and their floral contents, as well as hanging pieces of art, are visible in each of the sketches.

Floating fragments of my fellow students are also visible; many of them are minimally detailed and/or incomplete. Though these characters are composed with just a few choice lines each, I can instantly recall at a glance who each of them are; though I am not discussing my fellow students much in this short story, readers should know that the group was a lively, ridiculous, insightful, and all-around wonderful crew of individuals. I cherish many memories of shared adventures with this cohort!

This next sketch is my visual from inside a cavern, looking up at a gap in the ceiling, through which the roots of a tree at the edge of the opening are growing down into the abyss. This is part of a huge network of caves running through and around the base of the aforementioned Mount Suswa. We camped on one of the mountains plateaus the day before we descended into the incredible cave system.

Keanu, one of our brilliant Maasai guides, told us that this area was known as the ‘Baboon Parliament.’ Due to the convenient opening in the roof, baboons would use this area as a place to sleep and take shelter from bad weather; the local Maasai had observed them using the roots of the pictured tree as their ladder in and out of the Parliament. As I was sketching this scene, another guide sidled over and informed me with a grin that I had selected one of the baboon’s favorite sitting rocks as my chair. They knew this because the rock had been worn smooth by untold numbers of baboon backsides descending upon it over the years. The guide was pretty amused that I had similar taste in furniture to the baboons!

On this same day, we were guided into another cavern whose ceiling was carpeted with thousands of live bats. The scene and sounds were incredible; the smell, less so…

The instrument above was seen in a case at an East African Heritage Museum which we visited. The place was filled with pieces of the many histories and cultures, ancient and modern, housed within present-day Kenya’s borders. The plaque for this musical instrument informed me that it is called a “Nyatiti,” and it’s origin is with the Luo people. I would love to hear one played!

This scene is from one of our last days in Kenya. We sojourned to the gorgeous Watamu Beach area. The particular spot at which we were located is known as “Turtle Bay,” supposedly because of the great outcropping of rock (visible on the upper left in the sketch) set on a sandbar a ways offshore resembling a turtle. The more detailed work on the righthand page is my attempt at conveying some of the cool, craggy texture of another outcropping. Scenes from the beach make me particularly wistful, as they are associated with the bittersweetness of farewells at the end of this remarkable journey.

I will end this visual journey with one of favorite scenes from this whole grand adventure. I was just sitting a ways from the shore when this man and camel passed on by about fifty yards away. I was stunned for a few seconds, before grabbing my sketchbook and committing to ink what details I could. The pair moved remarkably quickly down the beach; though color and a few more lines were added later, I had to sketch the main body of the scene in about fifteen seconds. I later learned from friends who encountered the iconic duo that one could purchase a camel ride for just two hundred Kenyan shillings (about two dollars).

I cannot describe exactly why, but something about this scene captures so much of what made this journey special to me; perhaps it is because it was one of our last days in the country, or perhaps it was the beautiful that painted the moment gold. But more than either of those, I think there is something of the quickness with which it passed by that made it so meaningful. I think there is something to be learned in that about the quickness with which beautiful moments pass us by, and the importance of seeing, appreciating, and sharing them. This whole East African adventure felt like just such a moment; Even now I am left on the beach, amazed at the wondrous experience that just trotted by and left me forever changed. And while I couldn't faithfully keep a journal of words, I sure am glad I brought along my sketchbook.