This is where I come from.
I come from the dirt floor of a converted cow shed, squatting barefoot around an open fire with friends, eating ugali and sukuma wiki with our fingers. I come from parleys with lions in the misty high mountains, and sleepy nights with elephants at the watering hole. I come from snow covered peaks at the top of the world, bucketfuls of baby sea turtles scattered on the waves, and the solemn song of the muezzin calling out through the still, early morning air. I come from skateboarding down eight lane highways hanging on to the back of jeepneys, lumpia stacked high at the charcoal grill on a busy corner, and streets that turn to rivers in the monsoon rains. I come from the flame coaxed to life in a nest of dry moss, beating drums thundering through the forest, long days of hard labor with a love song in my heart. I come from the roots of seeds planted in the rich soil of the Great Rift Valley, cries of a lone wolf drifting over the Sierra Madre, water lapping at the shore of a lowland loch, and mighty stone circles marking our planet's journey through the cosmos. I come from peanut butter on pancakes. This is where I come from. This is my world.