Sunday, September 7, 2008

A walk, a hurried walk.

Inspired by a scene from Amelie...

[She] has a strange feeling of absolute harmony. It’s a perfect moment. Soft, light…a scent in the air, the quiet murmur of the city. She breathes deeply. Life is simple and clear. A surge of love, an urge to help mankind comes over her…

The weather is getting warmer, it’s HOT hot. Dry and dusty.

Can you smell that? The air is filled with smoke and fire…

Farmers are burning the grasses to coax a bit of new growth.

The jacarandas are starting to bloom.

The president died.

“No! I don’t want to go to Mtendere!”

But I do want some of those gorgeous red tomatoes across the road.

Alas, there are no more avocados…

But look! The mango trees are starting to flower!

The price of gas is rising so quickly…

The taxis drivers are either ripping me off or are in the red.

Little girls squeal, big girls sing Alicia Keys.

That woman just scorned my sandals…admittedly, they are falling apart.

I’m parched.

The sky is so big and blue. It is like this everyday. It reminds me of home.

Sometimes, it seems that things change slowly…

I should cut my hair.

And yet, the times, they are a changing…

The mosquitoes are back…

And soon, so will the rains.

We’ll have a new president or prime minister, wherever we are.

Friends are leaving (farewell, Nina).

But babies are born…

Hilda’s girl is Nkomana (meaning happiness).

And families grow…

Tangson’s granddaughter is Sudha (named after Amma).

I will be leaving sorghum and Kalomo soon, but it’s hard to let go.

As I reflect on what Zambia is right now, I can’t help but think…



I can’t wait for those mangoes.

I will leave you here,

I should heat water for a bath now.

T :)