Stars, Stripes, and Shields

One of trickier parts of growing up in a foreign country is never really knowing where you fit in. I mean, I am an American - red, white, and blue to the bone... except that I wear a red, white, black, and green bracelet at all times, because those are the colors of Kenya. I can sing all the words to "The Star Spangled Banner," (which is more than I can say for some American IDOLS I've seen) but I prefer to sing the Kenyan anthem (in English or Swahili) - not so many hard, high notes to hit...

It is hard to be a person without a country - worse, still, to be a person with TWO countries. Thank God my countries are friends and allies, or I would be REALLY conflicted. I mean, can you imagine if I had grown up in - oh, I don't know - IRAQ? Talk about culture-confusion - paging Dr. Freud-Bin-Laden...

When I was a kid, the Fourth of July was not really that important to me. Harambee (Kenya's independent day), with its enforced shop closings and the President passing by in his huge black car, waving his cow-tail out the window, I could get into - but the 4th just didn't seem to apply to me. Oh, sure, my parents would usually note the occasion with a cheery "Hey! It's the 4th!", and our American boarding school would sometimes give us an extra piece of hairy chicken in honor of America's birthday, but really, it just was not much to get worked up about.

Except, of course, that one time my parents came down for a visit in July (they lived six hours away from my boarding school) and took me into the capital city where the American military personal were putting on a special 4th celebration at the international school.

I became a Yankee-Doodle-Dandy.

First to charm me was the HOT DOGS - lots of 'em, covered in mustard and REAL Heinz catsup, not that runny, pinkish stuff we normally ate with our "chips" (fries). And speaking of chips - they were handing out bags of Frito corn chips. Did you hear me? FRITO CORN CHIPS! They may as well have been handing out crunchy GOLD. You see, at that time, (the early 80's) in Kenya, you could not just walk into Akbars grocery and buy American food without it costing you an arm and a leg. Oreos? Snickers? Sweetened cereal? Fuhgitaboutit. We had to make do with what was on hand - namely Marie biscuits, Cadbury Crunch bars, and Weetabix cereal. Yet here these guys were, dishing out those crunchy golden nuggets like it was no big thing. It literally blew my mind.

After we all got our food, we settled on the vast expanse of green lawn to watch the military presentation, and I fell in love with each and every male in a crew-cut that day. Watching those men (No, I'm not being sexist - I don't remember seeing any women soldiers that day) in their crisp uniforms, their eyes partially covered by their caps, their jaws all seemingly carved from some sort of indestructible granite, made my thirteen year-old heart go pitter-patter. Looking at those handsome, stern faces, I felt insanely proud- and even better than that - I felt safe.

The men in uniform did some sort of marching drills to the tune of a staccato bark from their sergeant, then for the grand finale, they carefully and meticulously hoisted an American flag up a tall, shiny pole. The school band broke into a rousing rendition of "The Stars and Stripes" as we all leapt to our feet. I looked around at the crowd of people and saw many a cheek wet with tears, my mother's included. The soldiers stood at attention, their hands saluting the flag, their eyes never wavering as it made its slow ascent up the pole. Old Glory blazed against the blue sky, just a couple feet underneath an even TALLER flagpole - which held the shield-festooned flag of Kenya. As I stared at the two flags, I realized that this was my destiny - to always love two countries and never feel like I belong completely to either.

But that's okay - they both belong to ME.

Oh, say can you see? By the dawn's early light, what so proudly we hailed, at the twilight's last gleaming...

Oh, God of all creation, bless this our land and nation. Justice be our shield and defender. May we dwell in unity, peace, and liberty; plenty be found within our borders.

...Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave? O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.