Fieldset
Homecoming

So in 10 days I will be on a plane to
Canada
…No worries… It is only a short visit; I am coming back to the DRC. A short visit indeed but I will be in transit for 31 hours to get there, to get home. I am quite nervous about that actually… that it won’t feel like home anymore, that everything will feel different. I know that somehow I don’t feel like myself anymore, or at least not the self that left
Toronto five months ago. It is hard to believe how much time has passed already, how much has changed.


I am worried that I will feel like a stranger in a familiar place, or worse that I won’t recognize the place at all. I am most aware of this when I try to explain certain things, certain ideas from home to Jean-Bosco… Like an amusement park or marshmallows… As I listen to my own explanations, it all seems unbelievable to me, and quite ridiculous… Like I have imagined a different place far from here that isn’t quite real.


Sometimes it is easy to forget that there is a whole universe outside of Kilwa. I never forget my family or friends, they are never far from me anyway, but the everyday happenings of the outside world seem to just slip away into some distant notion that continues to exist somewhere just outside of my consciousness. Maybe it is the fact that I have no access to radio or television or a newspaper… Then again, here I am, on the internet, with the CBC and the BBC just a click away and yet it never even occurs to me to click… But then again when I was home I relied mainly on my grandparents to inform me of the news, since they watch it twice a day anyway, it’s just good time management.


My Grandparents. Soon I will be in their house, sitting in the kitchen and eating freshly baked homemade bread, hot out of the oven with butter and molasses… At this exact moment I can think of no place I would rather be. I am honestly tired and I need some rest and this is always the most restful lace for me. My grandfather has threatened to hogtie me, however, so that I cannot come back to
Congo
, but I think I can take him, even if I am tired…He is 83 after all.


It will be hard to leave Kilwa behind, even for a few weeks, there is so much to do and time passes so quickly. It will be hard to leave here when I am not sure where I am going. But like all the other everyday happenings of the outside world, life will continue to exist here, somewhere just outside of my consciousness.

I have promised to bring Jean-Bosco back marshmallows so we can roast them in Kasongomwana. No matter how hard I have tried, I can’t seem to explain marshmallows. I guess you just have to experience a marshmallow first-hand…