Jo'burg

If you' told me I had acclimated to India heat I would have given you a sweaty hug or flicked my "long" hair to spatter you with salty bits of Jen. Transferring in Addis abbaba the sun was still strong, but a pleasant vitamin something inducing relief from Mumbai. But, here in a South African winter, I am utterly wimpy towards the cold. I have to wear layers? Socks?! SHOES?!! Woah. It feels crisp like autumn, generous watery sunlight. I slept like a baby cozzied under five blankets. I am waiting for an overpriced taxi to head to real city digs, and a bit high on new beginnings. Trying not to be intimidated by warnings and crime statistics. Have meetings set up for the next few days, and lots I want to see. Nicest send-off, moody lady turned grateful sap. With fresh pesto still in my stomach, Mumbai club sweat dry on my skin, friends dropped me at the airport at 2 am. It's the first time I've been "taken to the airport" since Portland, sweet sweet. Well, here goes! Invigorated by newness and wild African wind getting to know the terrains of my face, my smile.