The Scent of Africa

It's already dark outside, though not very late. I go over to the window to let in some fresh air for a minute or two. I should have thought that it would be there and immediately enter - but I wasn't quite prepared for the intensity of it and it took me by surprise. In that instant, it was forcefully right in my face. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

It's the scent of Africa and I don't think I'll ever forget it. 

I don't even have the words to describe it, though often I've mentally tried. It's the earthy scent of dirt and dust. It's the promising scent of rain on the horizon. It's the intense scent of a thousand fires. It's the scent of clean, unpolluted air. It's the scent of, yes, even the bad and foul. It all melds together and comes as the familiar - the scent of Africa.

But what I can't put into words so deeply rests in my heart, that I don't think I will ever shake it. Coming off the airplane in October, we walked out the doors to go into the terminal, and it hit me there too. I almost cried when I recognized it, because I wasn't expecting it to be there, right in the center of the capital city and surrounded by tall buildings.

For me, the scent speaks of long evenings by the fire, nights in the bush, days in a small town, and special memories with family and friends. For me, the scent speaks of this land I've come to respect, and most of all, these people I've come to love. For me, the scent speaks of a home.

It's a strange thing, really. I didn't think I would have trouble adjusting to being here in Botswana, but I wasn't expecting to be so very at home. I'm certainly no expert on the culture or well-versed in all their customs, but coming here did not feel awkward, nor do I feel displaced or disjointed. No, I truly feel at home here, and I'm happy to say so. There will always be a special place in my heart for Africa. And when I go back to my home in the States, I imagine that I will dream about a certain scent and the day I can smell it again - the scent of Africa.