Letter from Baltimore 4

JOURNALISM, those called to the profession believe, is a fine undertaking. Many of us want to change the world. Often, with our sharp pens and great intellect, we believe that we can drive away evil and bring happiness to humanity. We educate, we inform and we entertain.
We subscribe to nobler ideals of justice and fairness for all. There is a reporter lurking somewhere in us and anywhere, no matter where we are, our eyes are looking for the peculiar, the strange, the-out-of-the-ordinary to make a story.
When we come face to face with the unfamiliar, the skills, the experience that we have honed over time become the bulwark against the culture shock. Sometimes it fails, often we triumph.
Almost three months since I left Nairobi, so many things interest me and perhaps have made my stay in the United States more worthwhile. I have sometimes felt like I can have no more of it. I want to go home, but the urge to stay on and achieve something; anything is worth more than not achieving anything.
A story is told of a man who went out sailing expedition in the 19th Century. When he went back home, he took with him a piece of gold for his wife.
At home, his wife ran to him with her hands outstretched.
"So lovely to be home," he said, "and guess what I brought you … a piece of gold, the most precious metal in the world," he said handing it to her.
She picked it from his palm and threw it out of the window.
"What have you done?" he screamed.
"You saw what I did … I just threw the piece of gold out of the window," she said through clenched teeth.
"Why?"
"I asked you to get me an Italian handkerchief," she roared back and walked away sobbing.
Can we be changed by the world? Certainly, yes. While having lunch today with Ms Susan Albrecht from the AFPF, my mentor Mr Harry Merritt, Mr Steve Sullivan and of course, Mr Bob Little, Susan asked what I have found about America and Americans so far.
"I couldn't pick on anything specific," I said.
The sum of all the experience has been exhilarating. I have learnt a lot than I can point out. The high and the low moments.
Of course, there have been the low moments like when I took the bus that took me the wrong way and walked in at the office an hour late, or when I took the wrong turn at the end of a press conference and called Harry to guide me back to the office.
Actually, when I had learnt my way around the place, I realized that the spot I was as at trembling as I struggled to get the direction from Harry, is a few blocks from The Baltimore Sun's offices.
The weather has changed and a sweaty, sticky summer is forecast. The hum of the air conditioners in the apartment tells it all.
For those of us from the tropics, it couldn't get any better than this though we hardly use the coolers. I looked at all of them hanging out of windows, thousands of them and thought someone must have made a kill out them. By the way the weatherman gets it nine out 10 times here.
I have written copy and all of it has run. Many thanks to Harry for, guiding me through the editing and getting the sources and the needed quotes to "put legs on the stories".
I have written about the Star-Spangled Banner, malaria-that kills 3,000 children everyday in the Third World, a summer feeding program.
No word could probably express my gratitude to Bob. He has been a wonderful friend and a true gentleman. I owe him a lot.
Lastly, but not least, my perspective about so many other things and America in general, has changed. What is good for the gander is not good for the goose, always.
Have I achieved anything yet? A lot. As a matter of fact, immeasurable. I look forward to new experiences after Tampa. No doubt, after groping trying to figure out many things at once, the last lap of the fellowship promises to be hilarious and fulfilling.
America has the tendency of throwing up the unexpected, the unfamiliar, and the out-of-the ordinary. It changes and even obstinate, stubborn journalists follow the tide.