Africa in retrospect
My gear is mostly clean and stored now. A substantive layer of red grit has been rinsed from the bathtub after scrubbing boots, duffel, and backpack. I am getting used to the sun being in the southern sky again. My hands no longer look like worn stone and I seem to have finally lost the sand in my teeth after face-planting on the downslope of the famous red dunes. This was not an easy trip, long days, difficult roads, heat, cold, wind, and dust.
What’s the difference between this and fieldwork in New Mexico?
Space, time. People. Attitudes. Beliefs. Distances, geographic and human. Colors. Textures. The light. Elephants. Hyenas and lions.
My camera stopped working early in the trip. Although disappointed and frustrated by the sudden lack of this visual extension of myself, it gave me permission to see. Instead of looking quickly and then taking photos, I watched the landscape; I observed the animals. I saw more and saw it more viscerally. I picked up my cell phone to take a photo and realized the futility of trying to capture something so distant and obscured, or so intimate and detailed, and put it down again. Slowly shifting away from the thought that poor resolution was better than none.
I have much to process, the photos I did take with my camera and phone, and the images my head holds. These latter are somewhat out of order and are filtered through a light I can’t recreate on a different continent, with colors faded and intimacy lost.
Here are a few landscapes from South Africa and Namibia before the camera quit.
More to come. Stay tuned.
Welcome home, dear traveler!
Isn’t home and its shower and comforts wonderful?
So beautiful! The orange and ochre!
You have a private, inner portfolio of pictures you took with your eyes. The complete surprise of it. Wrestling with the reality of it. Were you able to swear aloud when your camera quit?
I always swear aloud. It’s my greatest talent.
Beautiful. We look forward to hearing about you adventure over dinner. Sand optional.
Oh, you know me and sand. Frenemies with a magnetic attraction. And, yes!, looking forward to dinner with you… after you are done dining on the continent, of course.
What a beautiful but gritty experience. Our time in the French countryside is winding down and has offered a host of wonderfully buttered memories. I look forward to sipping and swapping soon.
Oooooh, butter… Is that “swipping”?
You words always touch me. Such descriptions that make me think I am right beside you. Well done 🙂 dear friend.
Thank you, Cathy! I wish you here right beside me 🙂