i wonder as i wander...

(thoughts from London, April 8)

As I rise from the depth of the underground tube I can feel the burst of cold air against my skin.  It is a stunning sensation that shocks my senses - the first of many. The air is cold, but the sky is clear. It is a beautiful crisp spring day in the hustling bustling city of London. The kind of day where cheeks glow red above scarfed necks and the warmth of breath can still faintly be seen in the air. The crisp air feels clean and fresh, my skin tight and dry.

The western world welcomes me in only the most appropriate way. At the top of the escalator, straight ahead, I am greeted by a Starbucks.

yes, I bought that sweater at "the junks" in Freetown for $2.50 (and it's lambswool) just for London ;)

As I sip my grande americano with half inch of steamed soy (certainly not words understood by Krio or English speakers from where I have just come) I watch as a busy world of order buzzes around me. Cars, buses, taxi cabs speed by on green, stop on red, and stay in their assigned lane with only the occasional beep of a horn. I feel as though I understand less in this world of order than in the beautiful, messy, chaos of Freetown. I just stand in wonder, not quite sure what to think, what to feel.

There are white people everywhere. The latest styles and fashions displayed on walking mannequins, straightened hair framing made-up faces. Everyone with somewhere to go, somewhere to be, bags in hand labeled with names and brands - some I recognize but had forgotten, some I don't.

No one stares at me. No one calls out to me. No one takes notice of me at all. For the last seven months I've been the center of attention...now I'm nobody.

I wander for a bit. I sit in a park where a crowd has gathered around street performers. I walk though an outdoor art market and buy some crisp fresh pears at a farmers market stall. I eat a measly little bowl of minestrone soup and foccacia bread that probably cost the equivalent of eight to ten heaping plates of rice and sauce. Yet it warms me from the inside out. I see a stunning performance of Billy Elliot, front row for half price. It is a beautiful day and I spend it doing all the things I love.

But how? How do I love this day and love yesterday when they don't even resemble the same planet? How do I not feel like I'm being selfish and overly indulgent? And what do I do if I am? It was only yesterday I held little Euphemia in my arms, kissed little Letty on the head, hugged Samretta and Henrietta with tears in my eyes, waved good-bye to my wonderful housemates on the platform as the water taxi took me speeding away. Only yesterday? Today is a different life, a different world. And tomorrow will be a different place, a different day, yet again.