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Dusty:Starlight:Culture



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2004-08-20   11:05 a.m.

Tummy troubles subsided quickly. Now we are home.

Sigh.

Though I'm in a disturbingly good mood, I must say, considering what's normal for me this time of year is wistful remembrance of where I've just been, a longing for another, immediate month-long departure from my habitual daily life.

So what's different this time? I don't know. I really missed talking to my family everyday - it was nearly impossible to call from Southern Africa. When we could find a phone in Botswana, it was 2 Pula for 10 seconds. Since P2 = about 50 cents, that's a ridiculously expensive phone call, and we still needed money to eat and all that.

It could be that the few friends I've called so far have said they really missed us and are glad to have us home. It's not as if that's never been said to us before, but this time something's different about it - it seemed genuine and heartfelt, not perfunctory or polite. Going down to the Uni yesterday I heard similar things and was offered an additional class, which always helps fund the next big trip, so I had a really good day yesterday. Maybe this is why rather than resentful and bitter, I'm actually content and beam-y today.

I cannot sleep past 6:30. I'm not sure if that's because I'm still on Hungary time, where our 6:30 is their Noon-ish, or if I'm still automatically waking up early because we were up in Botswana and Zambia every day by 5 am to go on game drives. Early morning is the best time to catch the big cats on a kill or non-predatory animals seeking out water. After a day or two we got used to the time and would just naturally wake up by 4:45, pack up the tent, and stand by the side of the dusty road, drinking chicory-coffee, waiting for an open air 4WD to pick us up.

So happy but a little culture shocked is how we're both feeling. I sat straight up last night in bed when I heard a big truck roll past our window - I didn't recognize the sound and just go back to sleep. I panicked, not understanding where I was for a few minutes, but then remembered that that loud noise was perfectly normal and nothing that should engage my fight or flight responses. Steve said a similar thing happened to him yesterday morning, which was our first morning back in our place: He woke up with a start at 6 am, looked around the room, and had no idea where he was. He said his eyes went from object to object in the bedroom, labeling them: dresser. Closet. Rug.... Only after nearly a minute, though, did he figure things out.

I'm trying to avoid highways, shopping centers, and the post office for a few days; generally any place where the rush, aggression, and aggravated selfishness of this area is so prevalent. Time was so slow, so easy, so unregulated where we just were - it was possible to stay still for hours and hours just watching a zebra drink water, staring at a waterfall, or talking with a guy on a corner who shines shoes and sells corn all day. Since things never happen the way you plan, you're forced to re-evaluate the notion of a schedule at all, forced to obsess less and enjoy moment to moment living all the more.

Enough - we're going to the bookstore since we think it will be quiet there. I think we're meeting Andrew for dinner and then going with Sean and Thomas to Bruno's show tonight at the Loop.

I've watched blips of news and have had so many things streaming through my head, but for now I'm trying to keep it a small trickle, since I know it will turn into a mad rush the second I get over my culture shock.

xo,

T