That's what life feels like in a 250-soul strong village on the edge of the ocean, a two day walk from the nearest road, a 15km walk from your closest neighbours.
Living in thatched huts built on layers of compacted dust, waking up to the sounds of roosters crowing and children crying, eating whatever you were lucky enough to pull from the water that day.
A permanent salty-tinge to your flesh - for fresh water is not just a luxury but rather a nearly non-existent commodity, so forget the idea of a shower.
A new concept of beauty in a world without mirrors - clothed in brightly patterned pareos and bare feet, hair uncombed and flowing in the wind, no make up, no soap. Natural, normal, fresh and free.
A constant smile on your face - for who can frown in a world where the sun is always shining, the trees drip with mango and jackfruit, the fish are abundant and the jungle hugs you tightly on all sides.
A constant sorrow in your heart - for who can be truly happy in a place where dysentery is the primary medical concern and only 3 adults in the entire village are literate? Who can be satisfied in a corner of the universe known to and ignored by the government, rejected by the rich, where citizens are left to wallow in their poverty without ever a hope of overcoming it?
Without ever being able to conceive of a life in which everyone is healthy and hydrated, everyone can read and write, where every parent can demand something better for their children than they had for themselves.
A parallel universe.
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Here in the village, the people wake up and go to work just like we do in Canada.
...only their job is to toil under a blazing sun in order to grow the rice that will feed their ever-expanding families.
Here in the family homes women become pregnant and deliver their children, just like we do in ours
....only here the birth happens on a dusty floor with a midwife and a scream, not in a pristine hospital with a doctor and a nurse and the safety of sterility.
Here in the heat of a sunday afternoon the children gather to play soccer on the school field, just as we did when we were kids.
...only their school is a two room bamboo hut with a chalkboard and two teachers for 100 students
Here people work, they live, they play, the learn.
They feel and smile and laugh.
Just like we do.
They are the same as us.
And yet they are totally different.
And every day when we wake up and turn on our coffee makers and our TVs, as we drive to work in our leather-interior SUVs, sit on a patio to have a beer with a friend, go to yoga, go climbing, go live our daily existences...as we do all of these things, here and now; on the other side of the world something completely and utterly different is all happening at the exact same time.
And it blows my mind.
This.
Is.
Africa.
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