We are all Africans.

We have all come home to mother Africa.

Asalaam Aleikum. Peace be unto you.

This is Dr. Mike, a Lutheran professor visiting with the team in West Africa. I live in Oregon, and am a professor at OSU. Maybe some of us came to the West only 200 years ago or so, or maybe we came 10,000 years ago. But we are all from Africa, black, white, rainbow. This is our home, and maybe it is time for us to pay our respects to our mother. Not easy, actually, because it has been a long time since these prodigal children have been home.

So we landed, were assaulted by the heat and humidity, were greeted by the most gracious people, were required to lose all track of any western notions of time, The food is a wide variety of chicken, fish, peanuts, pepper sauce, and probably some of the best beer you can taste. At least, better than Miller's Lite.

Some see us as coming to bring some form of help. Others see us as bringing only bandaids. But all are glad to see us. The look in the eyes of our beholders show a full range of trust and caution. I met a young man on the streets who was selling figurines. He said his name is Joseph. He was in my face with lots of challenges, the kind that are communicated with humor, but really carry the undercurrent of skepticism of a young black man of poverty to an older white man of privilege. It is an ancient paradigm, one that bespeaks of the nature of 1st world-3rd world relationships. I experience the discomfort of my own privilege, one that I really haven't earned. He is comfortable with his poverty, one that he really didn't deserve. It took a while. Standing there on the street amongst vendors of stuff, foods, cloths, trinkets, cabs honking their horns, babis banging against mothers' backs, etc. and so on. He asked me what I am doing here. I told him that I am here to do nothing more than to listen. And I asked him to tell me what is on his mind. He did. It wasn't as happy as the general image that most people want to portray. He talked of the great distance between his people and his government, another group of closed, insulated and privileged people. He talked about the intrusions he has experienced at the hands of the United States around the world. He talked about how the rest of the world never listens to Africa. I told him again that here I stand, only to listen. He talked some more, expressed the realization that there was little that anyone could -- or would -- do to effect changes in this world. I agreed. The he gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. A black African kissing the cheek of a white, retired, balding college professor from Oregon.

He thanked me for listening. He said that nobody ever did that, and he wanted to do it again. He asked me how he could change things. I asked him if he could read. Yes. Then, I said to read all that he could get his hands on. Newspapers, magazines, anything. Consume all that he could. The forget about changing things for himself and his running partners. If he truly wanted to effect change, then find children younger than he, those still with some innocence in them, and tell them what he has read. Focus his power to the next generation. Be the bringer of the freedom of the mind. Then he will sleep the sleep of a righteous man.

He kissed me again. He promised that he would do just that. We parted, these two beings from different worlds, brothers, friends.

It's nice to be home.

Dr. Mikie