"How Was Africa?"

How was Africa?  This is the question everyone asks but I couldn’t begin to answer if I tried...not unless you have several hours, maybe days, anyway, and even then I couldn't answer it fully.  A question like this begs a response like, "Amazing," "Unbelievable," "Hard," "Beautiful," "Life-Changing," or any number of similar trite responses that could never capture this kind of experience.  There are so many things that can never be put into words, and even the thousands of photos can never do it justice.

How can words ever be enough to describe the clarity of the stars in the Southern Hemisphere when there is no electricity for many, many miles, or the enormity of the African sky at sunset, or the beauty of the children's voices singing praises to God in the pre-dawn darkness as they work in the fields before their school day begins?

Words could never capture the deep laughter of Mama Jane as she ever-so-patiently coached us in Swahili, or the depth in the eyes of each child as they jutted out their chins with the simultaneous eyebrow raise that came to speak volumes in the course of an instant.  They knew all along what it meant.  It was we who had much to learn.

How does one explain the transition that takes place inside when you're trying to counsel a young woman, through a translator, who walked 30 km each way for HIV testing after her husband beat her because she refused to sleep with him after hearing rumors that he and his other wife were infected? Or the way I had to pay extra attention to every thought going through my head so it couldn't be read across my face as I tried to comprehend all the cultural implications of this beautiful woman's all-too-common story?

I could tell you about our incredible safari, the majestic lionesses we watched devouring their freshly killed zebra mere feet from our vehicles, the hundreds of hippos sunbathing or cooling off in the river, or the way we slept in the Serengeti, only the walls of our tents protecting us from the animals we'd been watching all day, but I couldn't explain the overwhelming smell of the hippo pools, the magic of the golden light bathing the giraffes as they feasted on the tallest branches of the trees, or the refreshing African rain that sprinkled through the open roof just before we saw our first wild elephants.

How can words describe the way it suddenly feels unnatural to wear anything but skirts out in public, or the way my heart longs to hear voice after voice calling out in their particular singsong, "Jambo! Habari!" as we walk down the road?  Or the pride and relief we felt when it finally became second nature to call back, "Nzuri!" just in time for us to leave?

Words fail to explain the emotion that spilled down our cheeks with our tears as the children we had grown to love sang their goodbyes, shared final hugs, and thrust some of the most beautiful letters we've ever received into our hands, wishing us well and reminding us, "Nakupenda sana"--I love you very much.

So how was Africa?  Amazing.  Unbelivable.  Hard.  Beautiful.  Life-Changing.  And so much more. Ask me about it sometime. I'd love to try to tell you all about it.