existabovethenoise

In my line of work, I miss out on lot. Often the people I care about the most are the people I see the least. Their moments of triumph are posts I “like” on Facebook. Their good days are shared over Skype. Usually, I’m able to take the good with the bad. I recognize that in doing what I love (and what I think I’m good at), I’m either on or I’m off. There is very little in between. When I am not home, I’m very much not home. I’m plane rides and calling cards and time zones away. But when I’m home, I’m very available. And I’m very committed to the little things. Yet, today – of all days – I’m not home. And I’m missing a very big thing. I can’t help but be sad about it. Today is my best friend’s wedding and I’m not there.

It would be different if I were jumping up at Carnival in Trinidad or riding in jeeps deep in a Kenyan safari. But, I’m just at my house, sitting in my dining room, reading Pearl Cleage’s ‘Things I Should Have Told my Daughter: Lies, Lessons & Love Affairs.’ Essentially, I’m just waiting for a new day. If I were out having fun maybe this event would pass with little commentary. Or if I felt like where I am is where I should be, then maybe it would soften the blow. But, alas, this is the situation and we’re oceans apart. That is the unfortunate reality.

So, next week I’ll be ready to write the happy blog post I actually intended to write when I started writing today. The one where I celebrate all the things I love about my Pumpkin. Where I tell all about how in high school I raked her over the coals for some dumb thing I can’t even remember now and how we spent months not talking. I’m not sure how we made up, but she probably initiated it. I probably didn’t say sorry, even though the whole thing was probably my fault. I was young and dumb then. I’ll talk about how she was the only reason I seriously considered going to UNC Chapel Hill. Yet I couldn’t be enticed to suppress the big city girl in my heart. I’ll say all the happy, joyous, praiseful things I should have said to her face when I last saw her in D.C. as soon as I come to grips with the reality that I’m missing out on the biggest day of my best friend’s life and what I’m doing now is definitely not worth missing that.

This is the ugly underbelly of life as I know it.

I should be in North Carolina right now. Of that, I am certain.

When most people think of Africa, images of vivid wars or lively markets frequently come to mind. The diversities of the 54 countries (not including 2 disputed countries and 8 European territories) that comprise the continent and its islets are hard to describe in sum. Generalizations and stereotypes are easy to come by, yet nuances are difficult to translate. Somehow a vast expanse becomes one great monolith, for sheer lack of better words.

Suffice it to say that this short time living in southern Africa has left me with filtered impressions. As yet, I’m unsure if my thoughts are muted by having been here before, or having been to the continent before, or having been to places that remind me of the continent many times before. Maybe my thoughts are tainted by the lack of full belonging to the many communities I’m forced to straddle in this space. And then again, it could also be that the fog of jet lag hasn’t yet lifted. Nevertheless, my time here has been something like the images below: Lively and ambiguous. Playful and mundane. Black and white.