Arriving in Africa takes me by surprise, even after all my visits. I'm still on the fast track from packing, hurrying, last minute shuffling, schlepping through airports, remembering (or at least trying to remember) the details, and then out of the dark night we descend to the Kilimanjaro Airport. We've landed. We're in Africa! As we make our way down the stairs from the plane and across the tarmac our senses are heightened. It's dark, warm, a bit balmy; a light breeze brings the smell of Africa to our noses: the soil, the flowers, the animals...all combine in the indescribably foreign scent that tells your heart, "you've arrived in Africa."
We hurry to get in line for immigration. We hurry to get our luggage. We hurry. We hurry. Always hurrying. Maybe it's something we bring with us in our western world heritage.
Our friend Okeno is wise as many Africans are. I've learned from him as I glimpsed through him what the African people do best.
Africans speak from the experience of living in the third world. The familiarity of cell phones without ever owning a land line. The availability of information on the Internet often without finishing high school. The knowledge of the land, people, history, and tradition passed down through generations.
They live a pace we are so unfamiliar with it surprises me, even when I know it's coming. Okeno laughingly reminds me, "slow down and relax. Remember African time. In America you live in seconds." How true!
Living in seconds we miss the flowers...
and the ostrich...
and the joy of a child's smile.
I told myself I'd come home and not live in seconds. It's easier said than done.
