Friends

Today, I conquered Gaborone.

Or, Gaborone adopted me.

Let me explain.

With every city, there is a specific moment where you realize, I know you.  I have walked your paths, I understand your structure.  And at this point, I think the city gives you an embrace and welcomes you to be a part of it.  Then you and the city—you are friends.

With Frankfort, I achieved this one day.  With other cities (New York, for instance! And, if I could venture a guess, Lagos or Dhaka) attaining this relationship status is much more time consuming.

I made it to the museum, which was largely unremarkable.

I was reminded that homo sapiens emerged c. 200,000 years ago, and it is widely believed they originated in Africa before spreading to the other continents.  (Asia c. 53,000 years ago; Europe c. 40,000 years ago.)  Africa and South America are growing apart at approximately 4 cm per year and India is still crashing into Asia, which is why the Himalayas are still being formed!

There was also a great deal of tribal history, some stuffed lions at play and a very menacing Puff Adder, the cause of most snake bite deaths. Puff Adder venom is cytotoxic (cell-destroying) especially with respect to blood.

  I will be on serious lookout for those.  

I had drawn myself a little map, but instead of heading home, I thought I would try to find this delicious coffee shop that Nenguba and I went to the other day (off my map).

I found it!  And was quite proud of myself.  But here’s why I shouldn’t be: when walking alone, as the only white girl in the city, many a harmless, kind gentleman believes he should escort me everywhere.  So, I’ll admit, I had a few pointers.

I also found the UN. 

After I ditched my last escort, I estimated a solitary 2 mile walk home, 100% sure of the direction.  It was then that I had this happy feeling about being friends with Gaborone.  The late afternoon sun splashed my face in columns of yellow light between the trees and I thought this:

When by oneself, there is a marked difference between being lonely (a bitter feeling) and being solitary (a content feeling).

 In this moment, I was the latter.  But I have to admit—the morning after I arrived, after the hubbub in South Africa, alone in my cold room (the heater is broken!) with no one but the animals for company and no internet or TV with which to connect to the outside world, I felt a pang of loneliness.

There was this foreign phenomenon called free time to really miss Doug.

Nenguba quickly fixed this, so loneliness was really merely a half-day event.

But knowing my way along Gaborone’s paved lanes, yummy latte in hand, this was a comfortable, solitary happiness.

A shout: “LEXIIIIIIII!!” stirred me from this deep musing.

Lost in thought, I didn’t even realize Andy and Alice, en route home from work, had pulled over.

“Wanna hop in the back?”  Alice said.

I do!  And, it turns out, my nice, solitary walk home was a free ride with friends.  Go figure. 

But do I ever adore riding in the back of pick-ups.

 Love from Gaborone.