Peace

If I want to imagine a place of deepest peace this is the scene that springs to mind. It is of a simple house with a palm roof and a veranda deep-shaded from the sun. It is midday, the heat threaded by the scream of the crickets in the undergrowth behind the house and stirred by a light breeze which cools the shadowed interior. Immediately in front of the veranda is a beach of coarse coral sand against which small waves break. The sand shelves away under shallow water as far as a narrow reef of ancient, eroded coral. Beyond is the azure blue of the deep Indian Ocean with, near the horizon, a small dhow, a jahazi, sped by the trade winds on its way to Bagamoyo.

I want to sit in one of those chairs and let time slide. I want to close my eyes and listen to the slap-slap of the small waves breaking and the rustle of the wind in the palms behind the house. I want to feel the heat and the breeze on my skin. I want to sit and sense the place and think of nothing.