I'm sitting on two hiking mattresses, one of them belongs to Alari and another one to Elen, who both left them to Kenya, saying that maybe there's some use of them here and I can say, yes, there is. On the mattresses, there's a small blue blanket that was also left by Alari and a warm blanket and two sheets borrowed by "my Kenyan family".
The light is coming in from a big window in my room. My kitchen corner consists of a black washing bowl and 2 water containers, one bought and another one given by my Kenyan neighbor after she saw that I have only one small one. Next to the containers, there's a paraffin cooker and cooking pot, both by my Kenyan family again. On the newspaper on the ground I have all food I need for cooking. Next to me, there's a jam tin that is converted into a cup - really nice and stable one. Spoons and plates from my Kenyan family again.
Next to the drinking water bottles, there's a "water-guard" for treating the water - I even do not remember when I was buying drinking water. On the wall is hanging a hiking bag, left here by Elen, repaired more than once. In the corner, there's my old phone charger - found use as a hanging rope for the cloths. On the newspapers on the floor there are some other cloths, books, notebooks, pens, medicines and washing equipment.
As I take relatively few clothes with me while travelling, then today, after washing those, I discovered that I have nothing left with long sleeves, but it was cold. I met my friend and he also recognized that I felt cold, soon I walked home with his favorite jumper. The jumper is now on the newspaper next to the warm socks that I got from the flight (Turkish airlines).
I did not write this long story to tell that I don't have any furniture. Newspapers, phone charger and hiking mattresses are furniture....aren't they? :) But I somehow like this... life. Being happy that a small butter box gets empty to get a box for salt and another one for sugar. Cooking from the tomatoes and onions bought from the seller on the corner. Life without a jumper.
Meeting people. Simple people. Runners, whose times are better than the Estonian record, but who live in a small rented room, made out of iron sheets, without electricity and having just one bed and running cloths hanging on the rope over the bed, cooking their maize and beans outside on the firewood, because there's no money to buy anything else. Running. Dreaming. Living. These people inspire me. If this is not living the dream, then what is?
Living this simple keeps me somehow awake. I can focus my energy where I need to focus it. I rather feel happy about an extra container than sad about all I "could have".