The Exploration Dream: Personal Essay

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My father is the most honorable man I have met in my entire life, he is a man of his word. It was the summer break of 2015, the month of July, which coincides with my birthday month. Ever since I was a child, it has always been my dream to explore the entire universe and see all the beauty and ugliness nature presents. Though deep down, I knew it was a fantasy that would never come true, I wanted to master all the world languages and culture and visit all coastal beaches in Africa.

My utopian wishes earned me the nickname “Vasco da Gama junior,” the name of the person considered to be among the best world explores and ancient traders of history. Despite my motivation, I was 15 years old, and the only language I could speak was English. I was afraid that all have always wanted was vanity. I was yet even to explore my state, never had I visited any outside country. Father saw the pain in my heart, and he made it upon himself to see me take the first step of my dream. On the Monday of 20th July 2015 at 7 pm, my father arrives from work. He saunters into his favorite sitter sofa to watch the daily evening news as it was his custom.

He seemed delighted than usual on this specific day, and his beloved little daughter could not fail to notice his change of mood. Slowly I walk to him, and he gives me a tight warm hug and whispers into my little ears, “It is time, baby, time to see your dream come true” for a moment, I was lost in my thoughts, trying to understand what he meant exactly. Still, in my world of imagination, I would see my father’s lips move up and down, and somehow, I heard the name Kenya. From my history classes, I knew Kenya is a country in Africa. Suddenly what he was saying come out clearly and I understood him. I was to celebrate my 15th birthday in Africa in a land called Kenya.

At that moment, the phrase he used of my dreams coming to happen genuinely made sense. Tears of joy uncontrollably trickled down my cheeks as I clinched into my father’s chest. I could not wait to inform everyone in my life, and I reached out to my mother in the kitchen. She was even more thrilled than I was already immediately she heard my news. That night I spent the whole time calling all my friends to inform them.

My history teacher always understood my desires, and he wished he could accompany me. I knew Kenya was the only country in Africa whose capital city had a national park from his class. All I knew about Kenya came back strolling into my mind. The Mombasa coastal beaches offered the best reaction opportunities. The Swahili culture and language our old neighbor used to say was an adventure that nobody could wish to miss. She could tell us of the isukuti dance, and she always shacked her waist in a round manner describing how the dance was played. To my astonishment, I was busy shaking my waist the isukuti style. I could not help by burst a loud laugh at myself for being such silly.

The travel day was a week away, mother’s preparation skills were unquestionable. In the meantime, I was still gathering all information about Kenya. I learned of the tremendous Maasai mara wild animal reserve and of the Maasai community, which is the only tribe that has held its traditional cultural practices up to date. The excellent lake victory named the queen of England also stretched into Kenya. Kenya is also known to be the habitat of the big five, namely the lions, leopards, rhinos, elephants, and buffalos.

Looking at the information I already had, I quietly appreciated myself and said inwardly, “you are such an amazing explorer.” Finally, the day dawned, and I walked out of the house, both of my hands held by my parents, one side my mother, the other by my father. It was a day of its nature and style; though the morning was chilly, I was sweating. The car’s engine roamed off to the airport, and everything was happening fast. In my mind, I was already in Kenya, busy talking the Swahili language and taking sand baths.

Within a short time, the driver pulled the breaks outside the airport, and we all walked into the waiting bay. All along, mother held my hand, suddenly that became disgusting, and I was wondering why she had me like I was four years old. Did she not know I was about to turn 15 years the next day? Not long, we were in the plane, enjoying the heights the pilot was flying. This marked the best traveling experience I had ever had in my life. The air hostesses were too kind and respectful inside the plane.

After few hours, I fell deep asleep only to be awakened for meals, have a little chat with my parents, and go back to sleep. At 1700 hours, the plane touched the grounds of Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. Indeed, everything was different; even the environment was calm and green, just like I had always imagined it. I turned around, jumped up to my father, and shed joyful tears. Now it was time to explore and make memories. After all, memories are the only thing that will never be taken from us.

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