The grass along the sides of the roads is tall from heavy rains. Women walk along hidden paths on their way to work in the city. Some wear their finest clothes, some wear uniforms, some carry big bundles on their heads. Men stand on the street corners, looking for a day job in construction, painting or tree felling. A few men are selling newspapers in the intersections.
The trees are home to a host of birds - grey louries, masked weaver birds, red bishops, mossies - that greet the morning with an amazing chorus. It wakes me up each day around 04h00, but I don't mind. It's a lovely way to wake up.
The sun filters through the bougainvilleas, hibiscus and bauhinia trees, and I - I just dropped my excited children off at school for the first day of a new school year.
I once met a person who said that every time he returns to South Africa after traveling to the United States, he feels grumpy for a month because the pace of life here is slower, less efficient and the bureaucracy is maddening (his words, not mine). I wondered if I would feel the same - if my brain would revert to "American culture mode" after spending a month in California. I have been back for three days now but the only thing I feel is this:
I feel incredibly glad to be home.
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