don't put it off

This past week I spent 20 hours in a mini-bus, and that's a conservative estimate.  I traveled from Dar to Arusha for the Tanganyika Law Society's AGM.  Our reward for the long and bumpy hours was sweet relief from the crushing humidity of Dar.  Arusha is located near the Kenyan border and not only is it dry, but at this time of year the evenings are cool enough to sleep without air-con and with a blanket! (Believe me, that is like winter in comparison to Dar)

On the ride home, I paused from the epic novel I'm currently reading and found myself entranced by the countryside.  Watching the deep-green hills of Northern Tanzania roll by, I knew that I wanted to write about it for this week's entry.  Although it was almost impossible to write owing in part to mysterious speed bumps that insisted on repeating themselves every kilometer or two along the road, I took out my trusty travel notebook to jot a few things down.  As Julia Robert's infamous line goes: "big mistake".  I'm sure you can anticipate that as I sat down to write this entry I realized that my notebook is nowhere to be found.

Here are some of the things that were in it:

• Directions to the Jodhpur Fort and Fabrindia (in Hindi)
• My electricity account number
• My phone number (I know, I shouldn't even admit that)
• Random thoughts to myself and scattered to-do lists
• The contact information of people I'd met since leaving for India last fall

If only because I've mentioned that our generator is always running, you'll have guessed that it's the last of these that is causing me the most anguish.  Fortunately, most of the people that I've met, I've been in contact with, thanks in part to Mark Zukerberg.  Unfortunately, that doesn't apply to everyone.  While writing down some goals for the coming year, I recently decided to actively try and re-connect with the people on my "I should really write and see how x is doing..." list.  While there are plenty of people who remain on this list, I am actively mourning the loss of the possibility of sending those emails to the people in my book. 

It might seem trivial, to want to write emails to people I may have only known for a couple of hours or a day, but like the book, my interactions with them comprise the record of this period of my life.  In the instance of Aju, my jewelery seller cum guru, I often hear his words of advice in the back of my head.  In my mind's eye, I can clearly remember the picture of an elephant with the words 'good luck' scrawled above its head that my waiter in Udaipur insisted on drawing.  (What I can no longer make out is the name of his restaurant -- Niwas something?)  In my heart, I still feel the message that a wise companion scribed as we parted: "I wish you the life that you want".  Come to think about it, she also said "Stay present and you will stop losing things" hmm...

And so I'm not going to regale you with tales of roadside vegetable buying or women wearing the colours of the rainbow as they carry water on their graceful necks.  My pictures will give you a glimpse of that.  What I will share is the lesson I've learned, to not put off the things that you want to do or the sentiments that you wish to express.  In so far as you can, make a point of actively doing those things, because you might not otherwise have the chance. 

As frustrating as moments like these can be, its amazing how travel always has another lesson up its sleeve.  That said, with any luck, I hope this lesson will be sufficient for the next couple of trips!