Saturday, April 18, 2009
I am home. Home from Cameroon and home from the quick trip to Dallas that I made a few hours after my plane touched down in Charlotte. I spend a lot of my time in that strange world that exists beyond airport security, so it feels like a third home to me. I think that is why I rarely experience culture shock anymore. By the time I leave Airport Land, I'm happy to enter any real world that awaits. Nevertheless, when I look out the window of my home office, I am surprised to see the green grass, the azaleas in bloom, the clean, empty street. When I go out my door, I am struck by the eerie silence. No sounds of traffic, roosters, the chopping of wood, frogs that sound like everthing from slamming doors to screeching brakes, cicadas, loud music pouring out of bars. In Yaounde it is never quiet.