africa (9/30/08)

in natalie goldberg's book "writing down the bones," she says to write about your obsessions. so in my several months of writing practice, i've discovered my obsessions. music. coffee. africa. this writing is about africa. so many stories. stories that make me smile or cry or laugh or all of those at once. it's so raw, so real. you get dirty. there are no shiny cars, wasted hummers, manicured lawns. none of this crap about whose house we watch "the office" at. it's real. people don't put on a fake face to see you. they come to church and they dance and yell and drum and sing, and it's the most beautiful sound in the world. because it's reality, it's not a false perception. these people are infected with a life-killing disease and they still praise. their kids can't go to school because they don't have money for uniforms, because no one would sponsor them once they tested positive. they still sing. everyone within the pale white walls of the church has been affected in some way. their husbands or wives or brothers or sisters or daughters or sons or mothers or fathers have died from this killer. but they still dance. because God's real to them. they've seen him work in mysterious ways. they haven't just heard about how Jesus used to heal people; they've been healed. their perception of Jesus embracing people isn't the sunday school posters of white Jesus with a perfect beard and two little white boys on his lap; they've felt the sweet embrace of the savior of the universe. but they can't fathom the universe. their world's turned upside down when they discover the earth is round. a space shuttle? the international space station? you've been to space? what? it doesn't matter. because they know God. perhaps in a more real way than anyone here in the confines of america ever could.