Uninhibited stars with no city light to compete with.
Simply enjoying each others company with no need for television, radio, or other forms of entertainment.
Singing and dancing unabashedly.
Pumpkin bread baked with coals underground.
Hearing the 'whoosh ' of lighting the gas stove.
Sitting around a fire with friends.
Waking up at 5am, greeted by the Milky Way and shooting stars.
Turning shower water brown from all the accumulated dust.
Children running up to you, with arms outstretched, hoping to be held.
Having a ten year old girl braid and tie my hair, wincing at each tug and pull but wanting to be as tough as the other little girls.
Watching the toddlers create masterpieces with extra thick crayons and old computer paper.
Having to remind the toddlers not to chew on their crayon.
Going on walks at 6am, watching the sun ascend through the sky.
Avoiding eye contact with a baboon, hoping I don't accidentally challenge it to a dual.
Feeling the rain-like spray of Victoria falls as we cross the bridge overseeing the gorge below.
Feeling the warmth of the sunset reflecting off the water as we drift down the Zambezi.
Ripping off the covers and putting on a third layer to protect against the chill of the morning.
Never knowing if 3 year old Jakob will speak to me in English, Tonga, or Afrikaans.
Listening to Africaans music on the 4 hour drive to Livingstone.
Feeling the stares as a 'makuwa' as we approached the local futbol game.
Wiping off the booger and dust-covered faces of the little ones.
Painting the mural alongside Junior or Milliam, showing them what color to put where.
Dusty feet.
Tripping on roots and rocks.
Walking the 30 minutes in Sunday sunshine to church.
Stepping on thorns that found their way in the tent.
Squeezing a child in my arms. Forehead kisses.
Breathing in fresh air outside after painting for so long.
Watching House, ER, or Lie to Me every night during dinner.
Igniting the gas to create hot water for washing dinner dishes.
Six wild African puppies licking my hands and climbing all over me.
Golden sunlight filtering through the tall grass as the sun descends.
Cooking dinner with a refreshing breeze passing through the outdoor kitchen.
Spotting hippos, crocs, giraffes, elephants, eagles, and cranes on the Zambezi.
Sitting on the orphanage kitchen floor in a circle with the moms eating nshima.
Frustration over paint drips that flew under the radar.
Painful blisters from digging holes in the ground.
Random bug bites.
The dogs eating a pound of flour after the spill.
How sound travels so far.
Hearing drums, music, and lively shouts from the local bars in the middle of the night.
Sleeping peacefully through the inhuman noises coming from a friend as she violently vomited right next to my bunk.
The full moon illuminating the path at night.
Hearing the gentle breeze in the dead of night.
The dogs dreadfully howling or barking at suspicious-looking trees at 3am.
Taking off our sandals to prevent sand from making its way in the house.
Going on runs on sand roads and being able to see for miles off in the distance.
Not knowing how long church will go.
Acting out David and Goliath for the kids at church since no one else showed up.
Going to the sketchy auto shop where the senile old man guard won't let you through the gate.
Cooking for 18.
Instant coffee and Zambian crystal sugar.
Putting out brush fires with tree branches and shovels.
How the land rover chugs diesel.
Sorting endless clothing donations according to age, article, and gender.
Brushing skink poop off the tops of library books and sweeping it out the door.
Sitting with a child or adult, watching the joy of painting for the first time.
The oh so complicated laundry system.
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