This is something I wrote on the last morning of my time in Malawi. For those who have never been to Africa, I hope it gives you a picture. For those who have been here, I hope it reminds you of what this place means to you:
I’m sitting here on the balcony of Kabula Lodge [in Blantyre, Malawi] and I’m just mesmerized by the beauty of what I see. The sun is just breaking over the mountains to the east. To the northwest, off in the distance, are some small hills with low, thick white clouds crawling over them. And just in front of me is the city of Blantyre, with all its early morning life and noise – music, lights, cocks crowing, people at work, horns. I love Africa. I love what it is, what it represents, the people and cultures, the life and resiliency. Just as these clouds attempt to swallow up the hills, there is light breaking forth to the east. This is Africa. Life out of death. Battles that seem insurmountable are conquered. Where there seems to be no hope, the birds are singing a different song. It’s the people of this land that make it Africa. The landscapes, the animals, the skies…they could be called something else, located somewhere else. But in the end, it is the people that make this place Africa.