Imagine a space where sky does not dominate you
it runs through you
where you don't breathe air, you taste it
a place where time doesn't run, it simply rolls by
where your nerves no longer get nervous.
A place where people stop to say hello to you, not just a quick glance,
a place where everything, even when unpleasing, is real, as everything is life.
Suffering from mal d'Afrique is something coming from the depth of your soul, before being a state of mind.
It's something you feel beating in your stomach,
it is there, it lives there,
no matter of the heaviness of the old continent so hard to digest,
no matter of a young and fresh coconut.
...mal d'Afrique is learning to lose time
observing an orange head lizard while bending its legs.
...mal d'Afrique means using your eyes like a pencil
and make a drawing of a baobab tree standing out against the sky,
low and turquoise.
...mal d'Afrique is looking at a mechanic with no idea
where to start repairing the engine of your car. 
...mal d’Afrique means getting excited in front of a flying sunset,
being aware that tomorrow, in any case, you will see a new one,
apparently identical but with new shades. 
...learning that it's not true that if you don't wish for anything,
you won't get anything,
being content with less is not always a defeat and living from day to day
is a good way to update your life.
...understanding your own differences
and accepting the other people diversity in a place where, maybe,
neither Jesus could have stated that men and women are all the same.
...mal d’Afrique means living in harmony with the moon phases,
with the local time zone,
in peace with the life cycle
and without losing your balance on a chinese (bi)cycle.
...mal d’Afrique is understanding you will be misunderstood
and resign yourself,
is boring boredom,
is making lazy laziness,
is knocking out intelligence subjecting it to your own rhythms,
is putting your way of thinking in prison
and releasing it against a bail your heart will pay,
eternally, by easy seasonal instalments.
...mal d'Afrique is a heathen silence,
a religious roaring, a mood.
...mal d'Afrique, the true one,
is an incurable well-being.