Note to Self: This is Africa

Every once in a while, I forget that I live in Africa.

After two years, the rocky ground feels more normal than blacktop. My walking pace has slowed. Hitch hiking comes as second nature. And I never worry about the weather because I know tomorrow will always be hot and sunny.

But then there are days like this one that shock me back to reality and remind me of how truly unique my experience here is. Even my daily life is filled with once-in-a-lifetime moments.

That’s because today, a helicopter landed.

In America, I wouldn’t have taken notice. In New York City, I probably wouldn’t have even heard. But here in Khorixas, when a helicopter flies overhead, everyone stops.

Everyone looks up.

Everyone points.

And for a second, nobody moves.

But then...

Barefoot kids came running from every direction, shouting and laughing. They lined up along the hospital fence, wide eyed and amazed. Even the adults slowly wandered to their front steps from indoors. They moved to the streets and stared up at the sky. It was like aliens landed—and in a way, they sort of had—because nothing ever flies above Khorixas. Most people here have never seen a kite, let alone a helicopter or an airplane.

I assumed the president or a minister would step out from within. Instead, it was just an army officer, sent to collect fuel. But the kids didn’t care—they cheered like Gazza (the biggest Namibian pop star) himself had landed, and yelled, “That one is my father!” as he waved to the crowds like he was magic.

I stood there in amazement, watching the tiny fingers of little learners wrap tightly around the metal of the chain link fence, huge smiles on all of their faces, shaking with excitement.

Everything was alight.

And all I could think was—Yes, I really live in Africa.