It's hard for me to believe that just 12 months ago I was in an altogether different seeming Kenya. Of course, I was in a visitor's bubble: tourism, hotels, travel and the hospitality of knowledgeable hosts, all of which meant I had little exposure to the cracks and fissures in Kenyan society that have appeared since last week's election. The six weeks or so I spent in Nairobi and Lamu were transformative for me, not just because of the friendships made or the new gig that grew out of those friendships, but because I left Kenya convinced that it was possible for me to have a different kind of life than the one I'd been living. A better life, basically. It's hard to describe, but a bunch of stuff suddenly seemed doable, and just about everything in my life is different now. I went to Clarion, I got out of a bad relationship, I rearranged the bulk of my personal and professional life. I lived (a bit!) like it was possible to be superlatively, excessively happy, this as opposed to deciding what I had was the best I was going to get. Sometimes that feeling of possibility was an ache, but every now and then it delivered enough on its promise to make me feel like I needed to back to Kenya every year for the rest of my life.

Now, though, I just feel like the worst kind of tourist. I went, had a wonderful time - changed my life, I tell you! - but here I am all the same stunned and surprised in Los Angeles, wondering about all the things I didn't know then and likely have no clue about now. If a country can go so frayed in a week, who knows what can happen to my little nation of one under the right wrong circumstances?