Africa. I think I got under its spell. My mind wanders again and again back to it. And, if my heart doesn't long for it all the time, it gets reminded daily in the weirdest way.
I was born and lived for most of my life - before coming to Canada that is - near a zoo. Yes, a zoo. And this small and miserable zoo always had lions which filled the nights of my childhood with their deep terrifying roars. I don't like zoos and I haven't been to one (this one merely a few hundred meters away) in the last 20 years or so. But these days when the deep roar sounds at various times of the day or night it cuts through me and takes me back to Africa instantaneously. I know I will go to the zoo one of these days and I'll just whisper something pathetic to the lion suffering so far away from his homeland.
And then there are the last pictures taken in Arusha in the early morning hours. They make me feel very nostalgic. A few people were busy sweeping the streets. The warm hazy air was filled with bird twittering. The town was waking up to life as the people were taking their produce to the market and traffic was slowly picking up.
There are sweat and colours, rhythm and endurance, need and plentifulness, noise and silence, an entire palette of contrasts and so much more that I see and feel looking at the pictures.
The rhythm of the swinging hips, the gorgeous colours of the dresses, the sweet taste of the juicy ripe fruit, the sound of the birds - my senses are longing for those moments and treasuring their memory.
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