It is a form of nostalgia that gradually settles to the bottom of the soul to hide there and return to the surface when you least expect it. It fills your eyes with tears for a few moments and, at the same time, reassures you.
Longing for Africa is an existing sickness.
I live with this feeling for some years now.
In the beginning, it did not allow me to think of anything but to quickly go back to Kenya, how to move there, how to stay in touch with the people I met during my trip, how to help, how to feel less futile, and useless …
Yeah, because going back to work at the Palau de les Arts in Valencia after the stay in the bush was a tough and stressful experience. The world of outfits, costumes, harmonies, and perfectionism that, until a few weeks before was the one I loved, suddenly had become a source of embarrassment, even shame.
I actually started to long for Africa at the beginning of my road trip to the savannah.
An extremely uncomfortable trip wedged inside an old school bus with seats for kids, jam-packed with people, bags, and food, through villages and along endless trails and rough, cut into the red earth, among baobab and tamarind.
A trip started right after midnight in Malindi and during which I realized that children who are lucky enough to go to school need to set off well before dawn to arrive on time at their destination, that the
African night is a black night which also amplifies the sighs, where the sky seems to crush everything and everyone apparently so close that the track is full of men and women who walk for kilometers in the dark.
My longing for Africa, however, is made of light and color so bright to seem unnatural
of immense spaces that tend to infinity
of animals that populate romances full of adventure and childhood dreams
of touching smiles impossible to forget
of slowness
My Africa sickness is closely related to the Tsavo East National Park, established in 1948 and composed of dry plains dotted with thorn bushes and marshy ponds along the streambed of the River Galana, dominated from the plateau of Yatta. Two-thirds of the park is used for scientific research and therefore closed to the public.
My longing for Africa is sometimes light as a barely perceptible sigh, sometimes violent and painful.
It is a precious emotion that basically keeps me in balance.
A longing to cherish … until the next stay in the heart of the Black Continent.
