One Month In, And Already a World Away

We are slowly approaching a small goodbye.The past few days with Wenzel and Leo Ferdinand have been so special, and tomorrow they head back to Nairobi and then on to Europe. We won’t see them for almost seven weeks. Leo Ferdinand remarked in disbelief that the week had flown by, he can hardly believe he’s leaving tomorrow.

Our last evening together was simple and perfect. Leo Ferdinand made his wonderfully sweet and salty popcorn, and we all just sat together, enjoying each other’s company. A quiet sense of gratitude hung in the air, along with the first soft thought of what it might feel like if this place became more than just a temporary home.

Wenzel mentioned how much more relaxed he feels working from here. Maybe it’s the change of scenery, the warmth, the rhythm of the days, or simply the peaceful surroundings. Though we wondered: would it feel the same if this became everyday life?

Today brought new little highlights.

The wind picked up, and with it came a sky full of kitesurfers, gliding, jumping, sometimes almost flying. It was hard to focus on homeschooling with such a spectacle right in front of us.

In the garden, the girls climbed their favourite tree, the Fire Tree, with its beautiful red-orange flowers, while Julius carefully collected fallen frangipani blossoms scattered by the wind.

The children have fully embraced these past days. They joined the sports camp at Kivukoni School, made new friends, and threw themselves into every activity. Watching Julius in the pool was a moment that stayed with me. Without hesitation, he joined the others, kept up, and simply trusted himself, something that would have felt very different just weeks ago. All those hours in the pool and the ocean are quietly building confidence.

At one point, the teacher gave the group a task. The children executed it perfectly. She paused, watched them, and said, slightly puzzled:

“Hmm… that looked too easy. I must have done something wrong.”

I had to laugh. It was such a beautiful moment—the gap between expectation and reality, and how delightfully the children surprised her.

This school, in many ways, reminds me of my own time at the British International School Cairo. Not in its setting, the school was in the middle of a busy city, but in its spirit.

Here, children grow not only academically, but through sports, arts, and creativity. Strengths are discovered, encouraged, and celebrated. It’s not about being the best. It’s about finding what you’re good at, and having the courage to develop it. Whether on stage, in the pool, or in the classroom, the message is the same: you grow through practice, effort, and sometimes struggle, and the joy of achieving something is always worth it.

After this morning’s sports session, we decided to walk from Kivukoni to the Food Movement with one clear goal: lunch. Ever since our last visit, we had been thinking about the food there, and once again, it didn’t disappoint.

What fascinates me most is how quickly our tastes have adapted. The children happily eat things here that I’m not sure they would even try at home, fresh vegetables, fruits, and simple local dishes, all enjoyed with such ease. Maybe it’s the climate. Maybe it’s the rhythm of the days. Or maybe it’s simply being here, fully present.

Exactly one month ago, we landed in Kenya. And yet, it feels like we’ve been here much longer. Somehow, life has found its rhythm. We move through our days with ease, navigating Kilifi almost like locals, knowing where to go, what to expect, and slowly settling into something that feels surprisingly familiar.

One month in, and it already feels like so much more than just time passing. It feels like something has shifted:

in how we live

in what we notice

and in how we experience the world around us.