For the last few hours, Suzanne and I rode on the top of the van, where, with a little imagination, you could be flying over those waving grasses, those acrid plains. The antelope bounding, the elephants spraying their backs with the fine red dust that has made its way into my pores. The baobab trees with baboons munching their fruit.
Finally, I couldn't resist. The tune had been in my head all day, so I fished the iPod out of my purse, found the theme song for "Out of Africa" and pushed play. I stuck one bud in my ear and the other in Suzanne's. It was hokey but it was also perfect. It was a soundtrack for the moment, for the sights and sounds and smells of Africa.