London calling

After a year in Uganda, a brief stint in London is reentry into the West cannon-ball style.

I walk around the city with the joy and awe of a country bumpkin. What nice, wide roads! What big busses! Look at all the white people in big coats! The museums are full of beautiful things; the stores are fully-stocked and they're open at all hours of the day. Armed with a piece of plastic, I can get whatever I want, whenever I want it.

Then moments hit when I feel the grief of paradise lost. The fruits at breakfast are canned peaches and pears. The climate is not the only source of chill: people avoid eye contact and take other measures to maintain their solitude in crowded places. Everything is available but costs an arm and a leg; I fear I'll run out of limbs.

But my spirits are high because I'm on holiday, because I won't get the bill until March. I don't need to make sense of things... yet.