A Sense of Familiarity

Exhaust thickens the air outside Bangkok's Suvarnabhumi International Airport, but it isn't until you get into the city that the familiar smell of Bangkok fully matures. There at street level among the vendors and the motorbikes, humidity mixes with pollution or the occasional whiff of sewage or the smell of grilled meats, and the slightest breath of wind can turn stale air fresh and sweet with the smell of fruit sold on the sidewalk.

The Bangkok air has a character that is at once vague and distinct, equal parts charm and reminder.

Being in this city for the fourth time to visit my brother, walking on the street, and smelling the smells reminded me of arriving in Kampala last May. I remember the van ride along the road from the Entebbe Airport into Kampala for the first time, I remember a sense of familiarity with the thick air of the third world, and I remember smelling that same air when I left Kampala in July, trying to put my time there into perspective.

People ask me about my experience in Africa, and I have not yet found the proper way to sum it all up. But I know there are still a few stories to tell--stories that not only reveal the beauty of East Africa and its people, but also suggest something about people everywhere.