It was the first day of the Metafari. Life was good.Overlooking a slowly awakening Dar es Salaam at sunrise 05:45 we started with Questions&Answers session on the roof of Rombo Green View Hotel. Sun Rise Stories.
After breakfast we left the city in our safari car and headed west.
Stopping for lunch at Morogoro we paired up to do appreciative interviews to get to know each other more. Refreshed and inspired we continued to the Mikumi National Park where we received a warm welcome. The cabins were stunning, very close to the waterhole.
We approached with a "here and now" writing exercise followed by reflections that was continuing into the sunset. And this happened with elephants and waterbuffalos at the waterhole just 50 meters away without a fence..At dinner, watching the full moon rising, the bright stars on an unfamiliar sky, and with the sounds of animals we could only imagine, we realized that we were actually here!
Inspiration Focus: The waterhole at Mikumi National Park
Lessons Learned: How you can be only here and now. How to do flow writing.
Method Box Contributions: Itinery Q&A. Flow writing. Appreciative pair Interviews.
Metaphor Treasure Chest Additions: The Waterhole as an organisation. Animals as metaphors for People.
Creative Expressions
"Behind the mosquito window I see water buffalos. They are black-brown. They drink from the probably muddy water. I am thirsty, sweating. Almost naked. Foot to the floor. Coolness. My thoughts can without problem direct my right hand. The grip around the pen is firm, but not hard.
Outside it is light and warm, inside it is dark and warm. Sweat is coming through the pores of my forehead.
It is quiet, but somewhere along the main road you can hear sounds of trucks. Green trees. A lawn in front of the waterhole.
Clouds on the sky, rather light, no threat of rain.
I can see an ashtray at the table outside, my heart is beating with a regular pace. I breathe with my stomach. The heat is safely enclosing myself. A bird can be heard, but I don’t see it.
In the next hut a door is rattling, a new car on the road. A scent of petrol/fuel is passing. Coolness from sweat of the forehead and armpits. Glasses are resting on my nose, and my mouth is moist. I write quickly without censoring myself. Sonja asks for my case. Door to toilet slams, noice of a crow. Just outside of the teracce there is a thin green bush. The terrace fence is made of stone and rounded. Buffalos remain. I think of a limerick that was never completed. There is rattle on the roof."
Outside it is light and warm, inside it is dark and warm. Sweat is coming through the pores of my forehead.
It is quiet, but somewhere along the main road you can hear sounds of trucks. Green trees. A lawn in front of the waterhole.
Clouds on the sky, rather light, no threat of rain.
I can see an ashtray at the table outside, my heart is beating with a regular pace. I breathe with my stomach. The heat is safely enclosing myself. A bird can be heard, but I don’t see it.
In the next hut a door is rattling, a new car on the road. A scent of petrol/fuel is passing. Coolness from sweat of the forehead and armpits. Glasses are resting on my nose, and my mouth is moist. I write quickly without censoring myself. Sonja asks for my case. Door to toilet slams, noice of a crow. Just outside of the teracce there is a thin green bush. The terrace fence is made of stone and rounded. Buffalos remain. I think of a limerick that was never completed. There is rattle on the roof."
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