kisses

Early Sunday morning, about 2:00 a.m. Africa bid me farewell. Her tiny emissary buzzed over me then lowered down and kissed me on the lip, leaving a swelling, itchy bump. The entourage that accompanied this mosquito messenger did their duty as well and left concentrated irritation in creative places all over my entire body (eye lid, knuckle, palm, big toe) with their own kisses. "At least take some blood," commanded Mother Africa. "It will bind her to us forever."

And whether it's the blood left in thier tiny squishy bodies (most of whom I smashed between my palms in the morning...even Mennos delight in violent revenge sometimes), some sort of magical attachment to the land, or most likely, a spiritual connection to the people of Africa, my heart definitely yanked back towards the earth as my plane lifted later that afternoon. It probably has a whole lot to do with the fact that Jospeh was still there... Alas, I better not dwell on that or I'll start getting sappy and sentimenetal in this blog.

At the airport in Johannesburg I scrambled for a few last tastes of Africa as I lost myself in a music store-sampling the rhythms of Oliver Mtukudzi, the Soweto String Choir, Lucky Dube, Ringo, and finally settled on buying CDs of Rebecca and Black Ladysmith Mambazo (or this one which is the Chimoio youth choir's favorite).

My eighteen-hour flight across the Atlantic went surprisingly quickly thanks to a chatty, but interesting neighbor with whom I discussed Zimbabwean politics, a good bit of sleep, some films (Prince Caspian and Maid of Honor), and of course, the airline food, which between the three meals they served, used up at least an hour of the time, including the minutes anticipating it between the time they brought my neighbors special Muslim diet (he wasn't Muslim, just doesn't like pork) and when they brought mine.

And now I'm in Georgia with my dear friend Courtney, eating barbeque, sweet tea, and fried pickles...ah, the South. Later today, I'll begin my train journey to North Dakota where my mom is again in the hospital, struggling with an infection, weak from chemotherapy, but full of hope and joy.

Since I can't post any pictures now, check out these links
http://www.mcc.org/gallery/08_10/photo_08.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_pictures/7655958.stm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fried_Pickles