“Like a bridge over troubled water, I will ease your mind”

I stare aimlessly out the window. Children laugh and play behind cinder block walls decorated with colorful numbers, letters, and simple drawings. Some men smile, yell “hi,” and wave at our large yellow truck. Others wearing sandals or flip-flops walk with purpose along the unpaved, red, dusty paths. They dress casually in worn black jeans and t-shirts celebrating American sports’ culture. Some drive motorcycles and carry several passengers. Shacks selling business wares decorate the side of the road. Shanties with tin roofs line the unpaved paths. Women sit on blankets and chairs offering fresh fruits and vegetables or walk by with perfect posture carrying baskets on their heads. In some instances, there are few people. In others, many. As they pass one another, they greet each other with grins or chitchats. They’re comfortable and at-ease. There are no signs of road rage or misaligned anger.

I remember the anxiety that came with packing and attempting to adhere to the seemingly thousands of well-intentioned pieces of internet advice that caused a near antacid overdose. Don’t wear black or blue as they will attract a specific biting fly. Don’t wear jewelry; thieves are prevalent. Don’t wear bright colors, they’ll scare the animals. Don’t wear camouflage. Don’t bring strappy sandals. Be respectful of the Muslim culture on Zanzibar and don’t expose shoulders or knees; but at the beach resort, dress as you please. Don’t pack as much underwear as you think you’ll need. Be aware that convenience stores and grocery markets aren’t as common as in the Western world, prepare for that. Pick up a blanket upon arrival. Temperatures in Nairobi hover around 70 degrees Fahrenheit, but in the Serengeti, it gets HOT and along the Ngorongoro Crater, it gets cold. Pack a pom wool hat and a sleeping bag designed for cold weather. Pack for chilly nights that may drop below 50 degrees. Bring sunscreen and mosquito repellent with DEET. You can bring a suitcase, but nothing over 65 litres. Overweight baggage will be stored at the traveler’s expense. Carry medications and an extra change of clothes in your day pack. Hiking boots aren’t necessary. Bring hats, scarves, and Chapstick to protect you from the dry, dusty weather.

None of that seems necessary in this moment. Nothing does.

In fact, I need nothing.

When we park and exit the vehicle, the locals greet us in Swahili with a smile and “Karibu,” which means “Welcome.” We absentmindedly reply, “Asante sana,” which translates to “Thank you very much.”

As I stretch, walk around, or sightsee, it happens so freely. There’s a peace I haven’t experienced like this in years. For once, everything is as it was. Today, she lives. There is no constant reminder of international terrorism, domestic gun violence, or disingenuous pleasantries. There’s no pretentiousness, just awareness and universal respect. There are no white people versus Black people, just locals and foreigners.

Here, it’s simple.

Here, she lives. At least it feels like that.