Back from Africa

Today is my first day back at work after spending nine wonderful days in Africa. The trip, courtesy of JWT's Diamond Information Center (De Beers), was a first-class, well-organized and well-run operation. Kudos to those employees of the DIC because they showed our tour group—composed of two stylists, a diamantaire, three journalists and a retailer—as much as a group could possibly see in a week, and more.

We visited the new diamond-sorting facility in Botswana, went down into the Finsch Mine, visited an orphanage for children in Botswana and learned about Debswana's (De Beers' partnership with the government of Botswana) efforts to combat the prevalence of HIV/AIDS among its workforce.

Each of these experiences is worthy of a blog entry all its own. But, for now, I'll just share my general thoughts on Africa.

Each morning, for the first part of my trip, I would leave my top-tier hotel in Johannesburg and visit some of the poorest sections of South Africa. I came from a place where I had more than I could ever need: food, water, entertainment, etc., only to visit those who have less than anybody should ever have to live with.

I found myself feeling, at first, pity. But the more people I met—from all walks of life and all income levels—the more this old cliché started to ring true: Money can't buy happiness. And, in Africa, it isn't needed to. The people I met in Africa were some of the warmest, happiest people I'd met anywhere. They were more than happy to welcome you into their homes, their place of business and to feed you, and to tell you all you would want to know about their lives and their struggles. All of this was done with a smile on their face.

I wonder if they didn't pity us: a group of Westerners cranky from the travel, irritated because our Blackberries didn't work 24/7. I wonder if they perceived that we don't understand what's important in life—family, community and a sense of belonging—and that we were foolish and frivolous.

At one stop on our whirlwind trip, a woman at the African Children's Feeding Scheme remarked to one of the members of our all-women troupe that she could tell we were Americans because we carried expensive handbags. I don't know that to be true, but it made me wonder how we are seen