Searching for comforts far from home,
We hopped in a car and began to roam.
Drove past shops for mattresses, fabrics, and weaves,
Much traffic. Few road signs. It was hardly a breeze.
After over an hour of turns, directions, questions, and calls,
There before us, a slice of America, the Palms Shopping Mall.
Posters so vibrant we couldn’t help but eat,
Chicken served whole, and thankfully lacking the feet.
Europeans dressed like they’re ready for the club.
Relaxation, compliments of an air conditioned tub.
TVs! TVs! We literally leaped and practically went wild,
Until we zoned in and sat like a child.
Need a shower with water that’s hot, refreshing, and clean?
Here there’s no fear that it’s water someone would pee in.
A grocery story with fish sticks, ground beef, and Pop Tarts,
Because we’re poor missionaries, there was no need to grab carts.
Toilets that were clean, public, and no need to pay.
Yes, you’re correct to infer these were all on display.
The clock on the wall struck three, signaling it was time to go.
We walked out the AC reluctantly, moving quite slow.
In the car our thoughts quickly transpired into dreams,
Of family, friends, pets, and freezers with ice cream.
But outside were houses built on sticks in the water of the bay.
In front, women and children running for their lives across the highway.
Behind, a slice of home, causing us to smile, shrug, and say,
“This Is Africa. T.I.A.”
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**Photos and modeling compliments of DJ Kelley.
