We take an early morning matatu to the Donholm junction and change bus to the airport. Some writing in the departure hall, an expensive breakfast larded with a guilty feeling, an abundant intake of cappuccino and avocado sandwich, a safe flight to Johannesburg with a random encounter of sorts.
Wycliffe, my seat neighbour, is a Kenyan musicologist from the village neighbouring the one where we have just built the Rainbow Center. He knows Churchill, one of the community elders. It is unbelievable, we talk politics, one of his passions, and he explains the intriguing history of post-independence Kenya to me. Kenyatta, Moi, Mboya, Luo, Kikuyu. Wycliffe studies in Durban, writing a PhD on music education – and I want to link him up with our center for future implementation of his programs. It is an amazing encounter and Yeon is equally surprised when we meet her in the arrival hall of Johannesburg’s all world cup ready airport.
Since we don’t fancy a stay in one of the expensive guesthouse on offer, nor feel like a noctornal walk in the worlds worst reputed city, we end up crashing on the metal chairs in a corner. Matt, a Canadian traveler heading for Zambia to volunteer for a school, gives us a mat to lay on.