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We come back home

Although our flight is at 19:40, the farewell starts early. First, the girls at school. Afterwards, the teachers with whom we have interacted with ... and of course, Frankie, Alice and all those who have taken such great care of us and who are part of our African experience. We will probably go back there another year. But the first time is always remembered in a special way, because Africa transforms you. Because, as our friend Aldekoa says, it is a story of dirt roads, travels in dilapidated buses and shared millet dishes. Africa is an ocean. An unfathomable and apparently homogeneous place if observed from the surface, but diverse and extraordinary when we submerge in its interior.

We arrived early at the airport, where we said goodbye to the three Kenyans with whom we have shared the most time and experiences, and whom we will never forget: Chela, Horte and Wambui, which translates to zebra, in Kikuyu, one of the Kenyan tribal languages.

At home we wait to share our adventures.

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