Why did the hippo cross the road? On a rutted, dusty track through Akagera National Park in northeastern Rwanda, the answer to this question raised more than the aberrant mid-morning snacking habits of a wandering hippo. For me, it revealed the delicate balance between expectations and limitations, and learning to trust a grander sense of timing.
The other day I was stopped on the Ponte Grazie by an Italian couple looking for directions to Piazza Michelangelo. It's always a moment of smug pride when I am mistaken for Italian, and it's always short lived! As soon as I started to speak, make eye contact and gesture, they knew. I am not one of them.