When I tell people that I am going to be spending two months in Africa I get one of two responses: "Take me with you" or "It is going to change your life". Usually, I get both responses from the same person.
I don't know what it is about Africa, but people -- Canadians, at least -- seem to have some sort of unspoken bond with the continent and its people. It is not just a sense that Africa is exotic, even though Tanzania promised to be different than anything I have ever seen (with the possible exception of a bus trip through shanty settlements en route to a mountain plantation in Jamaica). No, there is something magical, even mystical about Africa.
I share the sense of a hidden bond. I have wanted to travel to Africa since I was a teenager, living at home and dreaming of escaping Abbotsford for other lands. It only increased when I attended university, fueled on by exposure to African music, participation in African history and politic science courses, and introduction to African students. Since graduation many, many years ago, my path has been crossed by travellers from throughout the entire continent, from Cape Town to Cairo and from Sierra Leone to Dar Es Salaam.
People who have been to Africa tell me -- promise me, really -- that this trip is going to change me life. As my friend Mary told me on Monday, "You are not going to come back the same person." That is both a scary and an exciting thought, and I can't wait for the journey to begin.
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