Hello blog, my old friend. I have come to write with you again. I have missed putting digital words to blog paper for quite some time. The unfortunate thing is that I have been up to so much. I scarcely know where to start. And I hear myself writing in a Scottish accent. Just a wee bit.
Do I start with HIFA? Ot Bulawayo and its deportations? The Global NL program or the gastrodiplomacy conference after? So much that I scarcely know where to begin.
The most wonderful place I can end is the chant at Moanalani Falls. Victoria Beamer giving a benediction in Hawaiian to the blessing of rain at Victoria Falls.
We sit at your alter
here is the water
the water of life.
A soaked benediction with a double rainbow blessing. A wet prayer, if there ever was one.
I could start by recounting the immaculate day, because even that has been a while. Maybe my way of writing is just getting back to recounting the day.
I woke up late. I woke up early at 4:15am to the sounds of the wilderness but meditated back to bed. I woke up late for me, in time to catch the day's brunch over the watering hole. Some chocolate muesli and some coffee. And some POG juice-- passion fruit, orange and guava as the Hawaiians refer.
I was hanging low, Melancholy and low. Until the water mist grounded me in the present and I opened up to the day.
Victoria Falls misted a rain cloud and soaked us in a misted benediction.
I saw the Aloha of a double rainbow in the falls. The vivid colors stretched across the canyon in the clouds of mist arising from the falls.
I dried off to a crocodile wrap in the sun, alongside a Zim Shandy (lemonade, ginger ale and bitters) as I dried off.
Keola, Moana and Jeff went riding elephants, but I had my own pachyderm pair appear in the watering hole in front of me. “Wow,” I said and I cursed myself for not having my camera before I dived back into work.
I missed the first shuttle into town before I caught the ride with Victor the driver. He dropped me off at the market, which proved a longer endeavor than planned. I got the trapping of a barbecue-- fighting the onion scales and overstuffed charcoal bags before I caught the private shuttle back to the lodge as the green moon rose over the empty horizon.
We braiied it up over charcoals and spiced whole chickens. Rounded boerwoers. Top sirloin steaks.
A nice feast before I wandered over to chat by the watering hole with the good Dr. Louisia of Her Majesty's Nyasaland for a drink,
Sounds so little (it isn't) and so promising at the same time. Good night.