Amtrak Train 7:33pm August 9,2010:

It did not feel the way I thought it should. There was going to be more glee and more joy attached. I boarded my Amtrak Train and we rushed away from Olympia homeward bound…

 The trees got green like the forests I dreamt about when I was in Africa. The west coast deep, rich, green, with that smell oh the lingering smell of the trees back home how it had always stayed encapsulated in my nostrils.

Then I spotted the ocean… we drove along the coast for miles weaving in and out  of the tree lined coast. The rustle of the trees and the thumping of the tracks made way as we journeyed onward. Seattle was our longest stop at which point the most cliché Seattlelites boarded the train.

… “Am I a cliché?” I thought. “Would you really pick me out of the crowd and peg me as someone from Vancouver.”  At this point I was mixed with emotion about what I felt…”Did I want to belong somewhere?” …”Did I want to belong nowhere?” …”An endless traveler?”

It posed such a contradictory question as in month 9 of my travels I got very ‘sick’… I would not say ‘homesick’ but I got ‘sick and tired’ of the travel and so looked forward to calling Zimbabwe home, in fact I longed for this place that I only barely knew and so dearly loved to settle down to have a place called…home...

When I was in Bulawayo, the  town I plan to return to, I bought myself and elephant! You see I spotted him when I first traveled through 2 weeks prior to the adoption taking place. He was sleek and broad and oh so thick. He was about 3 feet tall and was sculpted beautifully. He sat in the parking lot of the most resourceful supermarket  in town which meant maybe there were 300 items to pick from and not all the shelves were bare and there was an attendant in the lot who would watch your car for 25 cents. So,this is where I met  “Innocent” as I quickly named him after his sculptor who parted with him for a mere $17. I mean he would have been over $200 in North America…so when I bought him he was to me a reminder, a sign, and a secret commitment with Zimbabwe… I would return.

 He is waiting for me…when I see him next is not truly carved out but the fact that I would be willing to call Zimbabwe home leads me to believe I will see him sooner than later.

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The sun starts to go down and I see a small hue on the horizon…nothing like those breathtaking sunsets on the African Coast…”Who am I?” I ask…”What really is my purpose” …”Where do I fit and which stereotype DO I belong to?” I will ponder these questions until my death I am sure…the one thing I know is that I AM ‘called’ and I am an adventurer. I wish life was easier than it is sometimes but then where would the lessons be and who would we need to call on to dry our tears…

Homeward bound…Vancouver here I come…

…Who are you?

…Which stereotype do you belong to?

…Where do you call home?

…What is Your purpose?