Dear Botswana

Dear Botswana,

Today, on my walk back from work, you blessed my village with one of your finest rarities; an African rainstorm. I don’t think I could have walked any slower, nor received more odd glances from my neighbors as I stuck my tongue out and grinned like an idiot. J You see I equate rain with home. When I see rain, I think storms over lakes, Michigan thunder, and the creek in my back yard flooding along with any other of the countless wonderful memories that I have from my beautiful state. And as I did my best to get as caught as I could in glorious waves of pula, I couldn’t help but feel like I was home. As the clouds rolled in, and the lightning flashed above me, I laughed out loud and threw my head back to take it all in. It was beautiful and I would be lying to say that the only thing dampening my face was the rain.

Botswana, I miss Michigan so badly sometimes. I miss the lakes, I miss the fall, I miss football games and tailgating, I miss sweatshirts and snow, I miss sledding and good beer (no offense.) I miss walking down Main Street, or driving a car, or going out to dinner. I miss karaoke at The Arena, movie nights at Phoenix, and uni parties at 404. And most importantly I miss the people that were at those places and celebrating those things with me; those wonderful people, without whom my life would not be as bright (you know who you are.) I miss my family and my friends, and my dog.

But Botswana you trick me, because just when I’m thinking of all the reasons I should go, you remind me of the reasons I need to stay. You remind me of the little kids that run full throttle out of their yards to give me a high five, or the jokes that the clinic ladies and I share. You remind me of my preschool students who are so close to learning the entire “heads, shoulders, knees and toes” song, and the basadi bogolos who come to the clinic and listen to health talks on HIV/AIDS. You remind me of the fact that every car going my way as I walked home today in the rain offered me a ride, despite the fact that I didn’t personally know any of them. You remind me of the wonderful volunteers I never would have met if I hadn’t come, and how the work they are doing inspires me everyday to be that much better so I deserve to be in their company.

Because when I go home, that will be the stuff I’m going to miss.  

Botswana you are one crazy lady to date, and the insane schizophrenic tango that we dance everyday could drive a person to madness; but when you aren't stepping on my toes, pulling out my hair, and ripping my dress, man do we look good together.

So I think I will stick around for another rain storm or two and see how this all ends up. I was warned that you would be the hardest job I ever loved, and you certainly seem to be holding up your end of the deal.

Thanks for the shower sweet cheeks.

Rata Thata,

Claire

A BIG shout out to my grandmother, who sent crayons, markers and coloring books to my preschoolers. :)