We are home for a quick visit (yes, we're going back to Zambia, and no, nobody died). While we wait for our luggage to join us, we are swooning with joy and hugging many dear friends. Also, we are enjoying the effects of jet lag or maybe just our Zambia-formed habit of getting up at 5 a.m.
Yesterday we took advantage of the hour by going running. Cruising the darkened streets by foot seems to me like how a blind person sees a face by feeling the contours. I ran past our house, the library-- saying hello to my favorite yards.
We run around 5 a.m. in Zambia, too, but there it's to avoid the heat and to minimize the amount of people we have to greet. Even at 5 a.m., in Zambia the streets are teeming with ladies walking to the market with bundles on their heads, kids racing to school, and bicyclists toting unfortunate goats. Here, I passed one elderly man out for his morning stroll (and probably terrified him with my enthusiastic greeting), lots of people driving to work, and several bicyclists wearing helmets. We're used to being the only people in the nation with helmets, so I felt a certain kinship. It's great to be home.
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