Today, I drank the warmest soda I’ve ever had in my life. I drank it in front of a village cornershop, with the stars out, surrounded by curious little girls, and a slowly growing group of townspeople trying to catch a glimpse of the first Asian man they’ve ever seen in their village. The little girls giggled uncontrollably as they showed off their English: “Good Morning!” Their older siblings looked on grinning from ear to ear. The air was choked with the dust and sand from the road, kicked up by the motorcycle taxis. Through the thick Tanzanian fog was a vibrant display of life.
I downed the rest of my soda; returned the empty bottle to the shopkeeper; squeezed one more laugh out of my audience; then continued losing my way through the village.
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