A cold front has lashed Durban, rain is expected tomorrow and powerful wind has thrashed litter-and-dust-and-crap up the coast or into the ocean.
I'm just out of five hours of lecturing (nope, that's not the word, it's too top-down, perhaps facilitating - in terms of a two-way flow is the more appropriate word) at DUT, and it's been fabulous: I'm energised and reverbrating with life. I'm in awe of, and humbled by the raw talent before me - how I blessed am I! These are the future communicators and journalists of Africa Rising. I encourage them to blue sky thinking - my mere role, most grateful am I - is to hold up the mirror: So that they may truly see themselves, their potential for doing good and creating light in the world, and all that they truly, truly are capable of continuing to be. I am humbled.
Today words have washed over me and out of me; I'm spent, utterly, which is what one should be at the very arse end of a day of living one's passion. Nothing more than that is what I need.
Im visiting Florida Road, for a hearty, hot chicken curry. House of Curries. The students sharing The Dream Factory with me suggested Florida Road; this was as we were discussing the fractured Durban society we have all, whether we are conscious of it or not, chosen to embrace. For now.