Rookie Errors

What is happening to me? I have been making the lamest travel errors lately. As much as I hoped it was just a strange symptom of contract break fatigue, it was not. As a traveler, I am regressing. Let's hope it stops here.


Take, for example, the R&R I am currently en route to, sitting in Entebbe airport. (Though, bear in mind my original plans were thwarted at the last minute - well, it was kinda building up but became impossible at the last minute - by rebel strongholds in the park I was planning on spending my time in. I mean, come on, I wanted to see gorillas, not guerrillas… har. har. har.)


I am now going to the Kenyan coast to lay by and swim in the ocean. 
I forgot my underwater camera case and razor in Ango. 
I forgot my sun hat hanging on the wall in Bunia. 
I just checked my bag in, forgetting my Kindle is in the top part of my backpack, perfectly placed to 
     1) be broken 
     2) be stolen. 
Note to self: only post this after you've safely landed in Nairobi with bag and contents in hand. 


So, that said, there are 18 passengers on this plane… I hope that somehow makes people feel less anonymous when handling luggage. One thing 18 passengers on a DC-9 given free-for-all seating does mean is that everyone vies for the "first class" seats, crowding next to each other and leaving all seats in the back totally empty. Usually I am stoked to have the seat next to me free, but I don't know what to do with 80-something of them. I should have brought my laundry to dry or something. 


I wonder when this airplane was built, and who owned it before Fly540, the torn interior looks vaguely familiar. The pilots are yelling at the ground crew. 


Is it strange that after 14 months of my primary transport being bush planes that I feel markedly less safe in jets? I mean, I currently am about to lose hearing in my right ear because they have started up the engines and the door is still open with the stair case up against it for anyone feeling the need for a last minute mind-change. Shouldn't that be closed by now? At least I know the procedures of small planes, I can trust my bush pilots and I can see when they are smiling while going through a storm or throwing their maps on the floor next to them, lost. 


I want to move farther back, it is safer back there, right?


I was asked to stay up front for the safety dement ration (?) (damn you autocorrect) demonstration, then told I could move to the back as we started taxing. 
Exit row never looked so good, thank you. 


It smells like vomit already. Oh my gosh, the oxygen masks have dropped… oh, that was just because we landed. 
Stellar.


How is it that I like flying less and less the more and more I fly? I am regressing as a traveler. This does not bode well for how I have pictured the continuation of this life. 


---
Afterward: All non-forgotten articles mentioned in this post have made it safely to Nairobi and are tucked into a massive empty electricityless house. Bonne nuit.

Oh Little Bird

I am watching a bird from my office window.
He is trying to perch on a peice of grass but is too heavy for it, so ends up just standing on the ground.
This, however, does not discourage him from trying again and again.
Courage, little black and white bird, courage.

Office Webs

You know, I always assumed spiders spider webs were a signal of neglect. However, this morning I got to my desk, plugged in my laptop and before my emails could download I had a spiderweb between my screen and files. 

Ango Awesome.

Perspective

"I thought white people were perfect before I worked with you."

"Um, thank you? You're welcome"?                     

Paraphrased from an explanation of an evaluation with my coworker and one of his staff.

For the Love of Contract Break

For four full weeks I:

Did not have any bug bites or insane itching.

Had no life changing decisions to make. 

Held no responsibilities for any life other than my own.
Did not fear snakes.
Heard silence.

Could expose my knees.
Wore nice things.
Felt like a woman.

Drove 80mph (120+kpm).

Went out at night. 

Went out. 

Could eat anything I wanted whenever I wanted it. 

Had access to Nomad Ventures and Home Depot.

Did not have to put on deodorant before going to bed.

Used my ATM card with no international fees.

Went to bed after 10pm.

Laid in sunshine that did not feel like it was out to kill me.

Spoke only English.

Had no curfew. 

Had friends.

Went on dates.

Spent time with my family, in person.
Got frequent hugs.

Ran errands on a whim.

Streamed The Daily Show.

Did nothing when I could do anything. 

(List is not exhaustive and is in order of how frequently these things come to mind.)

If a Child Falls in a Forest

His little abdomen shakes as it struggles to fill itself and trembles as it releases, his head is resting in my hands as I pray life over him – it’s all I know to do.  Moments ago this kid was not breathing, just before that he was climbing a tree for fruit. 


No one saw him fall - they only heard him hit the ground. 


A man in a shiny brown button down shirt pumped his little legs into his diaphragm, forcing air in and out until his lungs quivered again and began to take shallow breaths. He was still very much unconscious as we called for Ellen, our nurse and health project manager and Dona, a Congolese nurse. People began to move the child’s little body quite harshly, which made me afraid for any spinal injuries, but, then again, I was about to put him in the arms of our HR assistant, Georgine, and drive them over Ango’s rough roads in the Land Cruiser to the hospital. For a bit, the boy tried to cry and began to put his hands to his head, which was encouraging. 
Once he seemed his body was able to keep him alive we called to the crowd to find his parents and meet us at the hospital. We arrived and the doctor (one of 3 within nearly 100 miles) was able to see him right away. His aunt arrived and told us that little Floribert was 10 years old, though I had guessed from his size that he was no more than 8. He opened his eyes and began to look around remaining remarkably calm. 
Aside from pain in his abdomen, he seemed to be recovering quickly and well. With nothing more we could offer, we left praying he has no internal bleeding and that the intense swelling over his eye and the side of his head is mostly cosmetic. 
You never know what a day will bring. One minute you are begrudgingly reviewing financial documents, the next you are an ambulance driver. 

Several days later I asked after him. He seems to be fine, just sore. His parents are upset that Medair is not paying for his medical costs because they do not have money. 
These things weigh on my heart and on my mind. 
If we did not help, he would have died. Of course I was not going to let someone walk him to the hospital when we had a car there and available, but in reality, we were not obligated to take him. I know that people do not have money here, but we cannot help everyone in every way needed. We can do what we can and at that, do the best we can possibly do. Anymore is impossible and that’s where God comes in when He deems it, I guess.

Natural Health

Lizzie: I don't take vitamins. I do eat a lot of pineapple, though.
Me: My lips itch. Is it just me? Are anyone else's lips itching real bad?
Lizzie: Now that you mention it, my eyebrow is itchy.


Lizzie (coworker and friend) and I discuss health habits and issues in the field.