out of africa...

how can two such incredibly different places coexist on the same planet?

after coming back to the US from rural Tanzania a week ago, I can't get over it. just how stunningly different my reality is here from that of Tanzania. i really do feel like i have slipped through some surreal, shimmering passageway from the US to Tanzania, then from Tanzania back to the US.

two separate realities. each seeming like nothing more than a fantasy~land mirage while I was in the other.

who lives like this?

Waking daily at 5 am. Going out to work dust patches of farm land before the sun ignites the sky. Returning for a dieter's breakfast of a slice of bread and tea, then going out again, either to the field, or hopping a rickety metal "bus" to go work in the mines. Working all day, perhaps returning from the mines in the evening, to scarf down some beans and rice, and then to sleep, to wake to do it all over the next day...

Waking daily at 5 am. Coaxing milk out from a cow that doesn't want to give. Cleaning a house that is perpetually dirty, and why not, the floor is made of dirt. Finding wood sufficient in a barren desert to make a cook fire, and then standing over it to make the tea. This is after walking to fill a ten gallon water jug, and then carrying it back on the head. And then waking the children, cleaning the children. Fetching more water to do laundry, fetching more wood to cook once again, standing out in the smoky cookshed for more hours, and then going to sleep, to wake to do it all over the next day....

Who lives like this?

Slowly sliding out of sleep at around 9. Rolling out of bed into, toes burrowing into spongy beige carpetry. Moseying in the absence of noise provided by the soundproofed modern American house to a downstairs, and a kitchen with a bright shiny electric stove. Boiling up some coffee within 55.3 seconds, no more. Reading the news by blue glow of computer screen, and then bathing off the slowness of sleep in a piping hot shower. Hopping in a green Honda CRV to go visit friends, for it is Christmas. It is icy and cold, but no matter, warm puffs o heated air envelop the passengers. Hungry? No matter, for a bright, cheerful cafe is but a stone throw's away. Sparkling lights drip over everything. Would you like a cup of coffee with your meal? Mashed yams or baked potato with your rockfish today, ma'am?

who lives like this?

while in africa, i dreamed of a reality that seemed nothing more than a shadow wisp. most of the people i lived with there couldn't really grasp my American reality, and sometimes it was hard for me to do so as well. airplanes open portals that take you far, much further than distance, i suppose.

now in america, i remember a reality that part of me wants forgotten, that to some degree might quickly flutter to fade. it's easier that way. after all, my reality in Africa....was temporary, at least for me. i just came and swept up the aching rawness of it..but i don't have to live with it. i don't have to struggle with it, mindnumbing day after day.

Reimmerse back into this reality,
But hush~
It reverberates, the memory stays:
Who.lives.like.this.
It says~