An American’s Birthday in Kenya

Since a number of people have asked me about my first birthday in Kenya, I figured I’d share my experience here... Coming from a culture in which each passing year serves as a personal holiday in American life, celebrating my ‘personal holiday’ in a country where some people do not even know their age was a much different experience. June 30 saw the passing of 22 years of my life – and I had the best Kenyan birthday I could have hoped for. For me, the day was a perfect encapsulation of how this experience abroad is a turning point in my life.

My birthday fell on a Tuesday, so my first gift to myself was to take the day off from work and do one of my favorite pastimes here: read. I stayed in my fleece pajama pants, drinking hot cocoa, and reading on my couch all morning and into the early afternoon. It was a quiet, calm, and pleasantly sunny day. The book I picked up attributed greatly to the pivotal representation of the day: “The Last Lecture” by Randy Paush.

“The Last Lecture” was written by Randy as a lifetime full of lessons for his children that he would never be able to actually teach them because he was dying of pancreatic cancer at the time of authorship. Given to me by one of my closest friends and one of the incredible people in my life Laura, prior to my departure for Kenya, it was a perfect supplement and compounding factor to a reflective day. I honestly could not believe that I was turning 22…in Kenya: I was spending my birthday amidst a life goal I have had since 8th grade and was actually realizing.

Given the time zone differences, my birthday seemed to last twice as long as usual – which I of course didn’t mind one bit – and I thank everyone who expressed birthday wishes to me in all the various forms, spanning thousands of miles and numerous time zones. Waking up to birthday emails and messages, as well as still receiving them in the days following, was incredible. It is easy to feel forgotten all the way over here; and while I have been lucky enough to never experience this sentiment since arriving, I still cannot thank everyone enough for ensuring I certainly would not experience it on my birthday!

As for birthdays in Kenya – they are typically not celebrated for whatever reasons. The most practical explanations seem to be: people had no means for keeping track of which day someone was born (this is probably so prehistoric and outdated of an explanation though that it offers little viability); the infant and child mortality rates can often be so high that celebrating another passing year just attributes to emotional investment and connection to someone who could pass away at any time; and birthday celebrations can require money to be spent and that is a frivolous expenditure many cannot afford. But upon asking Kenyans why birthdays are not often celebrated in towns and villages, most responded, “That’s just how it is.”

When I finally made myself presentable to leave the house around 2:00pm, Paula and I went into town to run a few errands and then ventured out to the river for a two hour hike. We ended up winding our way through flourishing fields and undeveloped land by the town’s water source (an underground river). As we started back home, the sun was setting behind the acacia trees and corn fields, dusting the white salt-iced spans of red dirt with a breeze-cut illumination. It was yet another perfect way to end yet another perfect day.

My two closest Kenyan girl friends Jackline and Saida came over for dinner that night, but I don’t think either of them ever knew it was my birthday. I realized that, while if I was in America it would have not been uncommon for me to inform them of my special day, here it was just another day. And I wouldn’t have changed that sentiment for anything. I loved every minute of it – feeling truly at home in my Kenyan life and being at peace with the possibly conflicting ideologies of the two cultures that weigh most heavily on my personal identity at this point in time. So with that, I thank everyone – whether or not they even realized the significance of the date to my life – that made my birthday the best 22nd an American in Kenya could have hoped for.