Why I want to go to Africa

Looking through the membership applications yesterday morning, I stumbled upon this very moving essay on why the author wants to visit Africa. I encourage everyone to read it - it’s very inspirational.

Why I want to go to Africa
by Colyn aged 41 1/3

I guess everyone reaches a point in life when they know what’s coming next. What your friends say, you’ve heard it before they’ve spoken. The promise of the coming day is not much more than a glimmer, a reflection of what came the day before.

You know the stones in your streets, the way the clouds bluster across your horizon, the way your girl smiles when she’s happy. None of this cosy comfort is wrong, its re-assuring that everything is in its place and as it should be. We put so much effort into everything being the way we want it to be, to maximising the possibility of happy moments fleeting through our lives, and like a wolf in its lair, we anxietise about everything being well tied down (as Franco said), that bills are paid, dishes washed, friends and family put at ease, arguments reconciled. And yet, what is missing gnaws at you and me like a mouse at a cupboard door. When was the last time you closed your eyes and wondered “I wonder what tomorrow will bring?” and were not afraid that you didn’t know.

All of this runs contrary to our Neanderthal instincts. Our ancestors rose with the sun, much as most of Africa still does, and tended their fields till they were barren. Then they moved on to fresh pastures. This forms of intelligence is no different from that of wild animals. What is different is our capacity to re-invent ourselves, furnish our caves with IKEA, lay down wall to wall reassurance, fill our days with the minutiae of unnecessary luxuries. Again, none of this is wrong, if we hadn’t moved on we’d still be squabbling over tree fruits with the chimpanzees. Yet, foolishly, we are driven by an urge that somehow the accumulation of knick-knacks, cosseting of family and friends, will make our lives complete. It is our inability to realise that life can never be complete that feeds our frustrations and drives our material desires.

What’s really missing here? I’d venture to say, simplicity. We’ve lost our sense of wonder at everyday sunsets, a filling and tasty meal, the pure value in silence. And when we are surrounded by Northern-hemisphere cynicism, it muffles us, makes us indifferent to those things that are trying to speak to our soul. I want to think simply.

Which is why, naively perhaps, I want to go to Africa, packing the smallest preconceptions and expectations and the greatest hope for wonderment and fulfillment.