I believe that the world is divided into two kinds of people: those who wear flip flops and those who don’t. For the former denotes a type of relaxed approach to life and its experiences, while the latter remains resolutely restrained in the closed realm of work, duty and two-week vacations.

Flip flops, at least in the West, are an enduring symbol of summertime, where lazy Saturdays spent going to the local swimming pool or washing the car blended into one long afternoon. Donning a pair of flip-flops was less a statement of one’s wealth than a statement of one’s well-being. For no one can be in a hurry wearing flip flops, and they can rarely be expected to an urgent appointment with a bit of plastic and rubber wrapped to their feet.

Though we are forever striving for an ergonomic ideal for our backs, arms, ankles and arches, if you are fortunate to own a pair of flip flops, you need to look no further. Flip flops relax the body, thereby allowing the arms to swing freely, the shoulders to relax, the knees to bend, and the toes to spread out. They are the ultimate relaxation treatment, and can be bought at your local drugstore for fewer than ten US dollars (a snip!) – the monetary equivalent of five minutes at the chiropractor.

Flip flops are also excellent ameliorants towards changing your state of mind from exhausted, work-related despair to joyous, unbridled contentment. The moment I kick off a pair of oxfords, take off my socks and slip on a pair of flip flops, worries and tensions become a thing of the past. I am immediately transported back to the days of school breaks, long vacations, and poolside lounging. What matter that it is mid-winter and I have the heating cranked up to 80 degrees? My flip flops set the stage and I am willingly dressing the part.

Moving to Africa helped to relieve the societal pressure of wearing what can be termed as ‘normal’ shoes.  I could exercise the freedom of choice, and would not be judged for choosing the cheapest and most relaxing form of footwear. I was no longer forced to pay absurd amounts of money for leather boots, overpriced tennis shoes or tottering high heels. Instead, I wore bright green rubber flip flops bought at the local village market. They had bright red balloons decorated across them with blue spots indicating where the toes should go. They were audacious, outlandish, and absolutely suitable for walking on sandy roads in the searing heat. They withstood saltwater, sea air, muddy streets and long treks through the bush.  And the beauty of it was, everywhere I turned in Africa, at any time of the year, in many places and professions, the flip flops prevailed. And the people wearing them had the easy, laid-back attitude that seems sadly lost to those distant summers of youth.

I would like to say that I finally found the flip flops I had been looking for all my life, but it seems that they had finally found me.