Coming home to a foreign land

Last week E and I returned home from a trip to South Africa. He had a conference there, and since I telecommute, I decided I could work just as well from a hotel with Internet connection in Cape Town as from my townhouse in Khartoum, so we were off! Plus, we would have the nights and weekends to do some exploring . . .

We'll definitely share more about the SA trip as we get the photos and video together. Suffice it to say for now that:
Animals were seen.
Arts and crafts were purchased.
Wine was "tasted."
Table Mountain was climbed (yes, that's a good story for another time).
Fun was had.

But what I wanted to write about today was the experience of coming home from one exotic destination to another foreign location. There is something so sweet about arriving in a place that is so different from the culture you grew up in, and yet that still begins to feel like it too is your Home. It really gets you thinking about what Home is after all.

I mean, technically, it should be where my family is. But If I spent my time here thinking of Summit County, (and Denver, Los Angeles, Fayetteville, or the Twin Cities) as our only home, I think I'd end up feeling dissatisfied with the present, achingly nostalgic, and just generally antsy. On the other hand, if I can start to think about a multitudinous concept of home, as a place where you live (for the time being), and where there are people you love and who love you . . . then a whole world of Home can open up.

And that's the experience I've been having this past week. Things are familiar, but still strange, comfortable, but still surprising, ordinary, but extraordinary. We're reaching for our cameras again, everything seems freshly noteworthy.

An image from our home here for you to "take home" with you:
When you greet people here, you can get into a seemingly endless exchange of questions, check-ins, blessings on your health, your family, etc. It's great really. But when you don't have facility with the language, or if you happen to be speaking to a Sudanese person whose native language is one of the 80-some non-Arabic languages in this country, then what can you do to be culturally sensitive?! (I mean clearly, when the exchange of greetings can go on for many minutes, it is not a minor part of the culture of communication here!) Not to worry, there's a gesture that seems to be another foolproof way to get a smile and connect with the people of Sudan - from the kids playing ball in the street to the ancient man on the stoop on the corner: you make eye contact, smile gently, and put your right hand on your heart. If you know a word of greeting, great. If not, it's ok. This gesture seems to say it all.