Setting sail for home...

One last night in Africa.  I spent the day reading on the beach and watching local women harvest seaweed in the shallows.  This evening, after a champion grade packing session (in which I gave away most of the possessions with which I arrived), and one final and slightly successful attempt at sink laundry, I took a walk on the beach.

I'm ready to leave Africa, for now.  I'm ready to see friends and family, to sleep in my own bed and be woken, not by the call to prayer, but by Harper's wet nose.  I'm ready for the joys of western toilets and refrigeration.  I'm ready to get back to my "old" life and see how - or if - it's different now as a result of being here.

I've met many incredible people - Tanzanian and not.  I've watched fishermen sail hand-carved dhows to shore with the day's catch.  I've watched children play in the sand with the simplest of handmade toys.  I've seen the sun set over Mt. Kilimanjaro and over the plains of safari.  I've danced with the Chagga tribe in Moshi and celebrated the Full Moon with travelers in Kendwa.  I've walked the streets of former slave traders and shed tears in the cells of slaves.  I've taught orphans to swim in the Indian Ocean and students to write in a school of crumbling walls.  I've heard elephants trumpet a warning call to their young and seen a lion lunch on an unfortunate buffalo.  I've wondered at the constellations of the southern hemisphere and marveled at the waterfalls of the Udzungwa Mountains.  I've cried with frustration and exhaustion...and I've laughed with spontaneous and overwhelming joy.

I'm leaving this place with so much more than I could ever have imagined.  I came here with few expectations - only a hope to be a drop in a bucket.  And, while I'm not certain just how large my "drop" has been, I am certain that a drop was made.  The largest impact, it seems, has been on me.

Who will I be as a result of having been here?  Time will tell.  I have found strength in myself that I didn't know I had; found joy that I thought had been lost; felt more lonely than I knew to be possible; and will grow from it all.  I have a renewed faith in my own capabilities and in the inherent goodness of others.  I believe in the indomitable power that is the human spirit.  I believe in the universal languages of laughter, peace, and love...I also believe that, to have experienced it all, I am truly one of the luckiest people I know.

Lessons from Africa:

• Refrigeration is for sissies
• All rejected tee-shirts end up in Africa - and often on people completely oblivious to their often crude or inappropriate meaning
• If you can't ride a bike with at least one live chicken, a door, or two other people, you can't really ride a bike
• If the only thing that you can balance on your head is a hat, you're wasting precious space
• Besides food - all one really needs is a bucket and a kanga
• Speed limits are merely suggestions
• "Clean" is a relative term
• If you really want chocolate, but it has ants on it, one quick blow will clear that right up
• Consistent, reliable electricity is for ninnies
• If you're not sharing your room (and maybe your bed) with at least one critter, you're not in Africa
• Three marriage proposals by complete strangers in the span of an hour simply means that it's Tuesday
• Goats and chickens have right-of-way in the road.  Humans?  Not so much.
• A steady diet of carbs with a side of carbs is completely sustainable.
• It's normal for children to run out of houses and down the road toward you at full speed...then fling their arms around you - even if you've never seen that kid before in your life.
• Shower curtains just get in the way...a shower not only cleans you, but the rest of the bathroom, as well.
• Toilet paper should be stretchy