No
crystal ball could have prepared me for a day in which I would have two
grandchildren in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania and two grandchildren in Reykjavik,
Iceland. Kai and Jorin have just started school in Dar Es Salaam where the
family moved this month. We skyped by phone this week. How’s school, what are
you studying? I ask Kai, age 10.
Among
his subjects is Swahili. Intrigued, I asked what words he had learned. “Jina
lakoni Kai,” he said. “My name is Kai. And ‘Jina lakoni nani?’ That’s ‘What is
your name?’” I practiced, and enjoyed the rolling sounds I could make. Then I
talked to Jorin, age 7, who informed me that “hujambo,” in Swahili is “Hello.”
The
next time I get together with Robby, nearly 9, and Gwendolyn, 7, they will tell
me all about Icelandic caves, waterfalls, and thermal vents that erupt 30 feet
into the air, and the endless sunlight and maybe Viking museums in Reykjavik
where they are vacationing before school starts in Massachusetts. They both promised to bring me some black
sand from the beaches.
The
world gets smaller on a day like this, and my heart gets bigger. And more
thankful for the wonderful children their parents are raising. And for the fine, sweet
days this year when they were not out exploring the planet, but we were all
together at Nana's house for summertime delights!
