Noloholo, Day 12: Bewilderment

[cswallow]

The morning begins cold, all of us with our wraps and fleeces, shivering in the program office. Really it isn’t so cold at all; but Tanzania makes you a lover of the sunshine and warmth. You become, in my dad’s words “wimpy

Comments

such sad news...

[anonymous]

What you wrote here reminded me so much of Isaak Dinesen's words, where she said:

"If I know a song of Africa, of the giraffe and the African new moon lying on her back, of the plows in the fields and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers, does Africa know a song of me? Will the air over the plain quiver with a color that I have had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me, or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?"

It seems to me that almost anyone who's written about Africa seems to be as affected by it as you are in your words here, Jen. Isaak Dinesen and Beryl Markham, in WEST WITH THE NIGHT...they were all moved by it, as it seems you are, too...

I'm so sorry to learn about the young woman.

Re: such sad news...

[cswallow]

Sue, I don't always respond to your comments but I do read and cherish every single one of them. Thank you for all your reflections and encouragement, and for inspiring me with your stories, too! Someday I shall put these tidbits you have given me into a collection of their own!