If I don't start now I'll be distracted further by laundry, the painting jobs, what to make for dinner, where I can lecture to share all of this, and I will forget.
The details will not matter but rather the scent memories of air and people, the sunsets that surely are different from home, the comfort of having been there before. And yes, I will eventually romanticize the car bouncing on the jagged terrain, the itchy head from lack of washing, and the squat position and call it rugged living. We are back in the US now and I have returned home to a blow dryer, white and black people driving leased bmws, lines at Starbucks and children wearing heavy sweatshirts with their parents' alma maters lettered on the front. I cannot free guilty for having been born on this part of the planet but I sure as hell had better give you just an inkling of how most of the rest of the world lives, from my limited point of view. Arusha, Moshi, Olbalbal: it is not good; it is not bad but it is different there. It is not the world of Fox News or CNN.