Waking up in the bush, the shadows of a towering baobob tree greeting the sunrise,
open savanna revealing itself in the morning rays;
school children in the valley below singing songs in swahili to greet the dawn;
walking dusty paths, stopping to observe the african silences;
riding pillion in a motorbike taxi, clouds of brown dust billowing about;
strangers stopping, turning to see this single, solitary mtuzugu, or white man,
in such a remote setting. I hold onto the bike, trying not to get thrown as it bumps along
the dirt tracks, narrowly missing small boys playing hooky from school, plump ladies carrying
brightly colored market wares.
TIA. This is Africa.
