Date: 4-15-08
Today I realized for the first time to what extent I've forgotten about the civilized culture. Esther, Hans, and I are up here in Ndjamena, waiting for Kevin's plane to land. Last night we went to Anne and Richards because they are up here too and they gave us a gift to go to a pastry restaurant this morning for breakfast. The truck driver picked us up at 9:30 and we bumped along the back roads littered with trash and Arab women selling vegetables. Soon we reached the paved street. Vendor's lined the sides, little girls trying to sell you peanuts, moto's whizzing by you, open sewer, and men sticking watches and cards in front of you. All of these things now so normal to me. Then we opened the door to the pastry shop none of us were prepared for the effect it would have on us.
It was like stepping into a little America. It was clean with air-conditioning, little black tables and chair's, glass show cases with an array of pastries displayed, and more white people all in one place than I've seen combined in the last 8 months. We were seated at a table and a waiter came to take our orders. We had invited the driver Levi to come in with us. For some reason his presence was very reassuring. As the waiter brought us fresh pressed juice on a tray with straws and ice, Esther's eyes started to look on the verge of tears. Finally I understood why the African's stared at us so much. I was having a hard time not staring myself. We sat in silence overwhelmed by absolutely everything. I suppose that I've never really stopped to think about how living in a hut has changed me until I'm in a situation that brings out everything that Africa has changed. Can it really even be put into words? I haven't forgotten what it's like to live at home in the USA, in fact many a day I've daydreamed about it. But why now,when given the opportunity to experience a little bit of those dreams all we wanted to do was leave. Was it sensory overload, or was it the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about how Howaa would react in being in a place like this?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Hello. This post is likeable, and your blog is very interesting, congratulations :-). I will add in my blogroll =). If possible gives a last there on my blog, it is about the Massagem, I hope you enjoy. The address is http://massagem-brasil.blogspot.com. A hug.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Liz. I remember walking into a restaurant in Varanasi, India. When I stepped in the room, like I had just walked to the other side of the world and was back home. It was clean, smelled of fresh bread, bagels and pastries and had fresh squeezed orange juice. It was like stepping home.
Thank you for your stories. I really enjoy reading them.
Post a Comment