The First Day I Travel Abroad
23rd October 2012
Perhaps some endless joyous smiles or chuckles of anxiety will characterise my very black facial features turning them grey and green in flashes of seconds on the first day I travel abroad to London. I do not know whether the weather will favour my choice to wear a snow-white, fluffy, feather jacket and tough khaki trousers complementing my black leather boots that I plan to wear.
From Kenya to London
On television, they make abroad look so far yet I know it is near because I still speak to my cousin, Wariongo who went to the UK, with just a few clicks on the cyber café mouse for less than twenty shillings. Nonetheless, I always wonder how far abroad is although I really want to go to London. I neither will pack old garments nor adorn my neck and wrists with African beads lest the people abroad mistake me for a Neanderthal. Besides, the customs officers may expunge me from the airport on my day of travel like they do the outlawed Al-Qaeda, should I look any bit suspicious.
I plan to sit next to the pilot and savour the beautiful, uncontaminated sight of the white and blue clouds as the plane cuts through them at lightning speed. Before alighting from the plane upon my arrival to the London City Airport, I will take a lung-emptying exhalation and replace that with a lengthy inhalation of the fresh London oxygen. Undoubtedly, this will mark a new lease of life for me as I tightly embrace my every-smiley cousin, Wariongo, who will have come to pick me up.
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My heart throbs in my ears incessantly whenever I picture myself traveling to and through London as the magazine and television sites transform into tangible reality. Mostly, it is my breath that feels deficient to last me the next minute and my gastrointestinal juices cause endless foetal-like groans in my tummy as I picture myself abroad for the first time.