Friendships and tea are best made slowly 8
‘Who’s gonna drown in your blue sea?’ 8
The port of Soumbédioune 3
The sea makes treasure hunters of us all 6
‘Take these hands, teach them what to carry’ 11
i saw muslims worrying their prayer beads, lips moving soundlessly. I saw talibés with their tomato cans, mostly empty. i saw a porter carrying flats of eggs balanced impossibly atop his head. i saw women carrying babies; cats, chicken bones and i saw seagulls with silver flashing fish. and i saw a man with nothing, his arms were outstretched and empty but he carried the weight of the whole world.
The Harmattan is blowing in 17

african dust is kicked up and blown west on the trade winds where it freezes in midair and falls on your tongue and mittens.
Ten minutes after I took this the dust rolled over us and the sky went nearly black.
In this post: Wiki about the harmattan. How snowflakes are formed.
Why I blog about Africa 8
I blog about Africa because I was raised by one of her tribes. And because here things that are ragged are patched and cherished. Because sub Saharan thunderstorms are so deafening you have to believe in heaven. And mostly I blog about Africa because I want you to come, and fall in love.
Thanks awfully to whiteafrican for tagging me. You inspire me. Go read about all that he does for Africa.
I hereby tag Szavanna from South Africa and Esther Garvi aka Ishtar from Niger.
Come back to life. 9
by night you twist and turn and try not to dream and by day you haunt a house you can’t breathe in, can’t eat. but you’re changing.
No man is an island, entire of itself. 16
you avowed young that with suspiciously guarded land borders and territorial waters you could prove John Donne wrong. but you never anticipated pursuit from above.
and so it begins…
From this post:
John Donne
Sun is coming up on the ocean 8
you fall into bed nearly broken, the sorrows and victories of the day bittersweet on your tongue. but joy comes in the morning.
Things are going to slide 6
all is well in your comfortable life and you cannot sleep most nights. so you move closer to the equator where the sun and the struggle knocks you flat on your back like a fallen goliath and your alarm clock is the bustle of the street waking up and an occasional early dawn riot.














