You know you're back home when . . .

First, it was no easy process to get home.  Our flight took off from Virginia after an idle hour on the runway.  Which was just enough time that when we ran pell-mell through the airport in Zurich, practically stomping on elderly ladies, we reached our gate for the Kenya connection after the doors had been shut.  The plane was there.  The agents were immovable.  This is Switzerland, land of rules and schedules.  They preferred to have all of us stand in an hours-long line at the transfer desk and laboriously and expensively dole us out to other airlines.  Thankfully by agreeing to go to Frankfurt and then fly on a no-name budget airline called "Condor" (don't, enough said) we still made it to Nairobi by 5-ish am on Saturday morning.  Sure, we lost a planned night of sleep.  But we did walk around Zurich, happen upon a medieval street fair, drink coffee and view the alps.  And we did make it into Nairobi as shops opened, do our grocery shopping, fuel up on more coffee, and go straight to Blackrock.

 So the first sign of being home:  going to the biggest sporting-event day of the year at St. Mary's school in Nairobi, the annual Rugby tournament.  Slathering sunscreen, finding our kids, hugs, anticipating, waiting, cheering until we were hoarse, as Jack's RVA Varsity team won the whole tournament.  This is RVA's first time to win it all since 2007.  Jack played very well, smart plays, fast running, strong tackles, multiple scores.  It was so fun to be outside, to chat and relax with hundred (s) of RVA fans, to witness the victories.  Not a single try was scored against our team the whole day.  Our JV boys also did well making it to semi-finals in the second tier.  (Also I should explain that school tradition dictates that all the Varsity team boys shave their heads for this day.  So they look a bit like a prison team, which is intimidating I guess.)

After a full day we pulled back into home at dusk, so sign two of being back:  thrilled dogs, shaking and barking and groveling and celebrating.  Piles of produce from the grocery, spilling suitcases, telling stories, having a workable phone again, and staying up til after midnight to watch an exciting Champion's League final.

And then there's the jet lag sign of being back.  I'm normally a morning person.  But I had no problem watching soccer at midnight, and then could barely get out of bed at 9 for Sunday School.  Still there's nothing like severe sleep deprivation to ease one through jet lag.  It was pretty easy to sleep Saturday night when the last time we'd seen a bed was Weds night.

You also know you're back home when . . .  the girls came to Sunday School breathless with the news that a leopard was prowling around the dorms.  It turned out to be a caracal, another wild cat, which was removed by the Maasai guards.  Earlier this month it was 4 buffalo that had everyone local afraid to walk on the well-trod paths through the woods.

And to feel really at home, we agreed some time back that today (Sunday) was the only possible time to have the tennis team over while their coach was still here so instead of unpacking this afternoon we were making mounds of dough and cutting up toppings and stoking the fires to prepare.  The tennis team is a great group of kids and we enjoyed hosting them.

So pizza, wild animals, rugby, sleep, community and worship.  It is good to be home.