I want to write and describe everything about where I am, but know that my words will not convey it fully. It’s so peaceful here. I sit on the rooftop of my grandparents’ house, and watch the sun go down, and all I can hear is birds and some sort of animal calling in the background, maybe it is a buffalo. We’re not even in the village yet, and yet it feels a world away from home.
Dirt tracks and wild boar and a man who roams the streets with his vegetable cart. Every day, he brings fresh vegetables directly to my grandma’s door, vegetables that have probably been picked that morning. She jokes with him as she rifles through the vegetables. Their banter is constant but subtle, all part of a friendly exchange, something to make the day pass happily. She collects her vegetables, and gives the man a gourd of water, as the day is hot. He picks up his cart, walks ahead a little, returns for the shoe that has somehow fallen off his foot, and then goes on his way.
It’s so simple, and I wonder how we got so far away from this at home.
My dad brings out a laptop and all the children gather round. It is not new to them, my cousin has a laptop too, but still, it is a source of wonder, a source of magic. I look over at the shelf and there are so many mobile phones that I joke that they are starting a shop.
Is it an either/or? Can you have the good things of a slow life, whilst still enjoying the magic of the new world? I find myself craving those four magic letters; wi-fi. Just for a moment’s connection, beyond that of thought, with those who mean so much to me. It is not so easy to come by. Still, I feel very content.