Notes from my life in Tanzania
The places we visit become a part of our lives, become us…but each one is also a different life on its own…Tanzania was a life…I was a different person, with different thoughts, different emotions. On that day by Mnemba island, running and jumping on the white sand and looking over the endless blue, endless Turquoise, watching the birds, I was feeling free. My body did not belong to me, my heart was between the Turquoise and the excitement…Every second is a day, a month, maybe a year…If love had a definition in Zanzibar, it would be the beach, the sand, the heat, the salt, the waves, the tides, the bright stars in a dark dark sky, the taste of tequila, the music coming from a beach party on a new year’s eve, when I am the sand, the sand is me.
Waking up one morning at dusk to the sound of the prayers in Arusha, I was a different person. I had no memory of a previous life, how I got there. As if my life just started there and ended there, as if it had no continuity…I was a dot in the space, in the history…If love had a definition in Arusha, it would be the sound of the prayer, it would be the sleepy tenderness, the white mosquito net around the bed, the weirdness of my existence there, the lightness of my soul.
Being back to real life now, I wonder where did that life go? Was that ever my life? Was that ever me? Have I ever been to that beach or in that shabby hotel room? Or is it all merely a flashback or a blurry memory of a dream? Life has no continuity but a collection of broken existences, flashbacks at most….We live it as is, we leave it as is….