My Dad came to visit me in Tanzania. He committed to the adventure long before he was hospitalized with pneumonia and flew here less than two weeks after he was discharged, determination to visit us driving his will to improve. He has reported that the sun and saltwater further aided the healing process. It would be hard to overstate how much it means that he flew across the Atlantic, arching over Europe and landing in Dar es Salaam to see first hand the reality of our less than conventional life.

We spent time enjoying the splendor of Tanzania. We weaved through the streets of Stonetown and ate dinner watching the sunset. We relaxed on the turquoise waters of the eastern side of Zanzibar, eating dinner at a restaurant perched on a rock, aptly named The Rock. He adventured solo up to Northern Tanzania for a safari and saw the Ngorongoro Crater with an awesome Tanzanian tour guide.  And we hung out in Dar and he got to experience our normal life here. He met my students and colleagues at work, made dinner in our little kitchen, bajaj’d around town with us and hung out with our friends. Jason and I enjoyed hearing his perspective on his first visit to the continent of Africa, experienced through the beautiful country of Tanzania. He also experienced first hand some of the challenges of being a guest living in a low-income developing country. And started to develop more of an understanding of what life might be like for Tanzanians.

I credit my dad with my love for a bustling city, delicious food, overpriced coffee and some of my wanderlusting sense of adventure. And I like to think I’ve contributed to his own sense of adventure as well. The never-ending process of becoming an adult is an adventure in itself and finding friendship with one’s parent is one of the greatest rewards. Karibu tena Tanzania, Dad. Welcome again, anytime.