It’s always kind of weird to celebrate the fourth of July in a foreign country. Especially in countries where people are constantly watching you, like they will be in Malawi.
I took red/white/and blue tablecloths, some r/w/b star necklaces, and little U.S. flags. I think we’ll make all the food be r/w/b at lunch and maybe sing happy birthday. But that’s it. I don’t know that Malawians would understand us making a big fuss out of our country’s birthday.
Even though I often leave her, I love America. She’s not perfect, but the only reason she’s not perfect is because people live there. But I love Americans, too. As individuals they are the most generous and giving. They are free-thinkers. They are full of ingenuity. They love to work and love to play. Their interests are as varied as the people themselves are. America is a land of opportunities. With enough drive, pretty much anyone can become pretty much whatever they dream to be.
So, from near the heart of Africa, while eating red, white, and blue, food, I wish you, America, a happy birthday.
(Posted in absentia)