Africa - 非洲 - Африка
  Africa. Infinite. Elusive. The beginning and the end of everything. Guilt, abandonment, whenever I am forced to leave. My home is already in other lands, on another continent; my soul remains here, tears in two every time, I have to say goodbye, defeated. Far, foreign cultures, car noise, daily effort to survive, intricate paths that move to build today and secure  tomorrow .   Africa are my parents, my family, red sunsets, starry nights hanging. It is the perpetuation of life, the eternal return to origins.   As a child, during an evening walk with my father, I asked if I could live my whole life there, where I was born.  Where I received so much love every day.  My father made a gesture of doubt said, “God will it so."   My children were not born in Africa, have not lived Africa; they are a weak link between tradition and the new, the unknown, our new home. I was unable to give them this one vital necessity, the experiences I was fortunate enough to have as a child.  ...