Sweet Summer Child 2

Good morning T.T,

It is morning on my side of the world. A beautiful one if i must add. I realized this morning that my Monday’s range from good days to bad days depending on how well i prepared for my week ahead.
Am i well? I’d like to think so. But maybe i am not. Words such as “well” and “fine” are so relative and do not necessarily mean the same thing to different people.
When i think of Dar es salaam, i always think of oceans, and the smell of sea weed. I love the smell of sea weed. Also the heat. I also think of congestion. There are so many people in this city. Can you believe that just in the city we have more than double of the population in Botswana? Imagine the shock when i discovered that people are normally that crowded every day. It appears that i have accumulated a fear of public transport, combis, we call those daladalas here and they are similar to combis only bigger and pack standing and seated passengers. The standing passengers are often squeezed into the bus in such a way that you can feel each others body parts.
I dont think much about Botswana, not anymore. For a whole lot of reasons i’ll explain to you should we ever get the chance to meet again. I used to think of it as home. The country that raised me. The country wherein i met my closest friends. It is the country where a lot of mistakes were made in my part. I did not learn from those mistakes, the learning and growing only happened when i got to SA.
The other day electricity cut off at home and we lit candles. When the electricity came back and we had to switch off the candles, the smell of a dying out flame against the thread on the candle sent me down memory lane. It took me to when we were kids and we had just moved into the first house our father had built for us. The house was incomplete, we had no electricity, so a lot of things were done by candle light and cooking on charcoal stoves. Those were good times. I ¬†remember those days really well. I do not wish to go back, but i’d like to be able to remember more clearly.
What smells remind you of home? Of your father?

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