A different Africa

Maputo is my entry point to lusophone Africa. Up to this moment, I had only been to Northern Africa and to English-speaking sub-Saharan Africa. But the feeling in Mozambique is very different.

The urban planning and design immediately strikes familiar chords in my heart. This actually looks and feels like the world that I am most acquainted with. The streets have side walks and are green with exuberant trees. The common architecture looks strangely familiar. Food is simple, very natural, extremely tasty.

Below the surface, the feeling of the spirit and culture resembles all I have lived and thrived in. The respectful dress code, so common among Latins. The tradition of good, real lunches--as opposed to sandwiches or salads. And the ease of long, pleasant and cherished conversations in small coffee shops.

I have only had a first glimpse of Maputo. But this is a place to come back to.

High as the sky...

Looking from Clifton toward Camps Bay. Feeling the sun on my skin. Hearing the waves break, endlessly, distant, but so close. Lion's Head is right behind us.

I can feel the lawn under my hands. It feels green, fresh. It smells like the sea. Like emotions.

I bury my feet in the sand. The waves keep breaking, endlessly, so close, but distant. If I were to focus on them, capture their energy--I could feed on their blue, fly into the sun.

There is no reason to run, no reason to escape. This velvety feeling--the taste of serenity dripping off my soul.

My spiritual homeland.

Getting ready to hit the road...

...one more time.

My three days in NY were far too short to actually breathe in the city. But the six hours I spent walking around, buying food at the Deli, and hanging out in cool places were quite substantial. It was cold the first day, but then spring the next one--a sudden change that is as much part of NY as a good bagel with Lox cream cheese.

I took the red-eye flight out of NY at midnight on thursday, arriving here before the sun went up on friday. While those flights are a killer, this one actually allowed me to crawl into bed with the raccoon, the Chinese Rat and Kanga-roo, and wake up four hours later, as if I spent the whole night there. That restores the balance in my own private universe.

But, I will be off on monday again. Gone for another two weeks to Africa. My spiritual homeland. But, without the creatures that inhabit Happyland.

I want to wake up...

...in a city that never sleeps... And that is exactly what will happen.
Why is New York so special? Why are we endlessly attracted to this crazy city?
It is, certainly, more vibrant than almost any other city.

Manu, Shaams and I make sure that we go at least once a year. The same way in which the raccoon and I always make it to Cape Town, my sistas and me continue to end up in New York. We walk up and down Manhattan, stroll around the Village and enjoy the green air in Central Park--watching dogs and their pets (who believe to be their owners) run and enjoy.

We never get tired of it. It is never boring. The city hat never sleeps is always exactly that: an endless stream of energetic pulsations, which come up through the ground, fill your veins and explode in your heart.

I am looking forward to it, once again.