Got back to Montreal on Sunday. Long long travel day, I think it was about 36 hours. Got up at 5:30am and had a long drive through Zambia back to Lusaka, then Nairobi/Paris/Mtl. It's so much easier getting back because the whole way just feels like cruising downhill to home. Lusaka is as modern as any major city, but I was mainly based in a very small town near the Angola border. The villages are pretty inaccessible because there are hardly any paved roads through the province. I'd been there before so this time I was prepared for the heat and the dustiness. Every night after work I sat with my Ethiopian co-worker and he told me pieces of his incredible life story as we ate nshima and fish. I admired the way he makes his life choices by always putting his family first. And I thought about how, if I followed the same philosophy, I wouldn't be sitting there with him, drinking cold merinda and thinking about how right and wise that sounds.

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I am the biggest suck about cold water, so every night I swiped a wet towel across my body and went around mostly dirty for most of the week. The last night I realized that in fact everyone else had hot water and mine was just broken, so I swapped rooms and had the most glorious shower of my life. But that room had no air conditioning and the mosquito net was too small and ripped, so I was clean, but hot and stressed about malaria all night. Despite all that, the lodge felt so luxurious because last time I stayed in that town I ended up covered in flea bites and the door to my room didn't fully close. After we drove back to Lusaka on Saturday, I went and sat by myself for lunch in a food court in a mall with air conditioning and the world was so clean and shiny and I loved it SO MUCH. At that moment, the mall was the most beautiful place I'd ever been.

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I am currently reading Karl Ove Knausgaard's journals and I'm into it. The best part is knowing that I still have about 3200 pages to go. This is a project that is going to keep me occupied for a while, like a quilt, but more interesting. I've realized that the same thing that draws me to Diaryland draws me to memoirs. I am genuinely happy to work all day, go for a walk, and then sink into reading about other people's lives. Some favourites recently: by Jowita Bydlowska (Drunk Mom) and Sarah Mancuso(Ongoingness and also The Guardian).

I have always made myself go out into the world to try to connect with people, even when I don't feel like it. It's kind of a city mouse/country mouse thing. But now I am finally embracing the part of me that doesn't want to talk to anyone else. I will just be here by the window with my tea and my book. If i change my mind, I'll go find people later [okay city mouse, but there might not be any friends to be found in the cold, dark winter].

6:46 a.m. - 2016-04-26