I stood at the top of the stairs
I saw the land and the trees
and felt the sun and the wind but that’s not why I cried.

Its a skill I learned on my first trip
from my own self that first journeyed here so many years ago.
she sat on my shoulder
no distrust, and no trust
wild but she didn’t know it
then

that’s how I knew how to do this
Do what?
Know how to live in the village without language
without comfort, physical or emotional
alone but never alone

The first trip to the village was to ask permission
I suppose the first trip to Mali served the same purpose
and permission was given.
The old women said that it was part of their culture to be welcoming of strangers.
As I left the village after that introduction,
I looked around me
at the scrawny, dusty, fragile village
(That’s the last time I saw it with my western eyes)
having just eaten my first few mouthfuls of green colored tô
and thought oh Janet
what have you gotten yourself into this time.

The whole time in Mali
I alternated between feeling totally there,
totally present,
totally at peace
and the next instant
I would find myself wondering
what the hell am I doing here?

When I got back to NYC after 8 months in Mali
I spent 13 months wondering
what the hell am I doing here.