Teleporting & Viruses

This Wednesday I took a trip to Nelspruit to mail off 2 boxes of books. As I stood in line at Ressano Garcia border crossing on the return it really hit me. I have only one month left here in Mozambique. People have been asking me about leaving now for the past couple of months, but until I got that stamp it really didn't register that this was the last time I would be crossing into Mozambique at this border. I will be going to Kruger for a conference later in April, but I will cross the border in the park.

I will miss Mozambique. To tell you the truth, the only parts about the US that I have missed are my family and friends, and my washing machine. I will miss my friends here in Mozambique. No, I should say extended family. The communities of Madjadjane and Gala accepted me, taught me about their history, culture, and life with patience and generosity, helped me when I needed it, warned me to be extra careful in South Africa, were concerned when I was sick, shared what little they had, offered to build me a house, and asked me not to leave. I sometimes wish I had a teleporting machine or a portable hole that would allow me to travel easily from one country to another.

They (whoever they are) say that you can never really leave Africa once you have lived here. That it is a virus that infects your blood with longing. There is more than a grain of truth to this I think.