Getting ready for work in the morning is always a “warp speed” activity-a whirlwind activity of coffee, shower, walking the dog, packing an attempted healthy lunch, more coffee while my mind makes lists of undone tasks and unmade phone calls and the stress of it all settles firmly on my shoulders, like a completely unwanted hug .

Sometimes the most inane sound or sight can trigger a memory and for a moment you are bathed in the light of that memory….almost as if a spotlight is shining on you and all you can feel is the glow of that light infusing you, warming your soul.

A simple thump-thump-thump, pause, followed by another thump-thump-thump, pause, over and over for half an hour had that effect on me on one such morning.  It drove me crazy at first, wondering what it was and where it was coming from.  Then I relaxed, sank into the sound and decided to count the beats while I finished getting dressed, making a game of it, like we made mundane tasks fun for our kids when they were little.

And as I listened to the thumping sound the most serene sensation washed over me and I was transported back to a moment in time ….watching Fufu being made in Africa.  “What the heck is Fufu?” you say.  Well, it is a soft doughy patty made of cassava and plantain and drenched in a stew/soup, guaranteed to make you pass out from the weight of it in your stomach. But that’s not the point.

My serenity stemmed from my mind’s eye, a viewfinder if you will, where you’re looking at the view, a far way off, reduced to one of those tiny photograph slides your ancestors would stiltedly pose for, painful in their serious stances and faces….I would often wonder if all the joy had been sucked out of them for some unknown reason, at least to me.

I awoke one morning in Africa to the same rhythmic thump-thump-thump, pause, and wandered downstairs following the sound to its origin-a beaming Faustina sitting on a stool, pounding Fufu with a stick and turning it after three pounds. Hence the thump-thump-thump, pause.  I stood behind her, pajama clad still, and reveled in the simplicity of this food preparation, the sanguine approach to a tedious task.

As she sensed my presence behind her, she turned and smiled brilliantly: “I dey make Fufu for you Madam!”, (I’m making Fufu for you Ma’am!) her joy filling the air between us. I had no choice but to beam back, delighting in her innocence and her tangible pride – I actually laughed out loud, nowadays referred to as LOL. I remember her, all shiny faced and white teethed, smiling as I giggled. I remember that feeling of absolute joy, peace in my heart, feeling young and free and silly, along with that  deep down feeling that I was experiencing one of those unforgettable moments of my life….nothing extraordinary, but so precious in the thump-thump-thump of my heart.