First Day on the Job

I'm writing this only moments before getting on the plane so please forgive the franticness and inevitable spelling and grammar errors. I'm a little distracted...

Yesterday was our first whirlwind day of training in Philadelphia. I spent the morning wandering around the old city site seeing and in search of my last cappucino with my room mate and new friend. It was very surreal to be standing in front of the Liberty Bell and Benjamin Franklin's post office.

Training started in the afternoon. We are a group of 21, all community health volunteers going to Namibia. Training was very ---US Government. It was fairly boring and most of it was common sense, but I figure we just need to grin and bear it for awhile. After training we went out for our last American dinner (chicken fingers for me) and spent the rest of the night making phone calls, sending emails and taking care of last minute details like student loan paperwork and health paperwork.

This morning we walked over to the Federal Building and got some vaccinations and our malaria pills. No one was too thrilled about those since they gave most of us an upset stomach.

Well, I have to go because I'm a group leader a need to make sure my fellow PCT get on the plane. There's no staff with us from the time we got on the bus and we get to Namibia (including a night stop over in Jo'burg). I will try to write once I'm actually in Africa because I assume that's what you're all most interested in (I know I am)! I'm not nervous, but I will be. I'm excited and happy to be going. I expect it to be challenging, but I think I'm up to it.

Stay Classy Sacramento!

I left California this morning as the sun was rising. It was probably before most of you awoke and it was definitely before I awoke (at 3:30am, I can be vertical, but I make no promises about being awake.) It has yet to hit me the immensity of who and what I've left behind and what I have ahead.

My travel to Philadelphia was uneventful and I droned through it like a zombie. It wasn't until I met my Seattle-based room mate at the hotel that I finally felt not so crazy for feeling (or not feeling) how I do. She is equally as excited and clueless about what awaits. We savored our last slices of pizza at a local pizza joint and have spent the last few hours on our phones and computers soaking up all the readily accessible technology we can while we have it.

How did I spend my last day at home in California?
Sitting on the floor against my stripped mattress in my bare room, doing my taxes while eating Eggo waffles and listening to techno music. In a few months, that might seem as foreign to me as Namibia seems to me right now.

Stay tuned. I will be in Namibia by Monday morning.

Love

In appropriate proximity to Valentines Day, today I realized that love really is what it's all about.

Be good to each other. That is all.

Is it time to retire the Blue Coyote?

I was in REI today picking up buckle to replace the broken one on my old backpack, a Royal Blue Kelty Coyote. It's a damn fine pack, but my mind and then my body wandered over to the back wall where they keep all of the new backpacks with the latest technology (no, a backpack is not just a backpack! Read and learn...) The new Osprey packs are designed with a special curvature to fit your back, pockets everywhere and even an internal water bladder, but it felt wrong to be looking at the new models when the Blue Coyote was just sitting at home ready and waiting to be packed full of gear and slung on my back for our next great adventure. It'd feel wrong to leave her at home. She was a gift from my father on my 13th Birthday and we've been off and running ever since. The Blue Coyote wasn't there for my first backpacking trip in 5th grade, but it was on that trip that we realized the old external frame military pack I was borrowing, was not suitable for a 10 year old.

Everywhere I travel I buy patches to adorn her, but never get around to sewing them on. Anyway, I know they'd just get dirty or torn off because even though I love the old lady, I'm not always that gentle with her. She's weathered rainstorms in Australia, been thrown under buses and above train seats all over Europe (twice), clawed by pesky squirels in New Mexico and Yosemite, strapped on a pallet by an Airforce flight crew on its way to Korea, used as a sled down Mt. Rainer, and lastly has provided me with a seat/pillow/"big spoon" at countless airports, train stations, bus terminals, and metro stations around the world. Maybe someday I'll retire her and put her in a glass case in my office next to a world map, but it's not going to be any time soon.

Trust Me

I've had the pleasure of spending some quality time with many of my friends and family over the past few weeks in order to say goodbye. Last week alone, I dropped in on old work friends, mentors, high school buddies, cousins, aunts and uncles. A comment I have been frequently getting is "How can you just leave the country for two years and move to Africa? I could never do that." Well, I suppose I really took all of those NIKE commercials to heart because --I just do it. I close my eyes and jump off that cliff (even if my friends aren't doing it). For as long as I can remember, I never just stepped outside of my comfort zone, I climbed into a cannon and shot myself way over my personal boundaries. I'll admit, it's a strange tendency and I can't really explain why I am this way. I apologize to those of you who've had to watch me do this again and again feel some anxiety over my willingness to "just do it," but believe or not, I've learned a thing or two from all of these "cannonball" experiences. Each time I stop and think a little longer about what I'm about to do and how it will effect me and my loved ones. I weigh the pros and cons and sometimes I even consult the audience.

Case in point:
When I was in Australia I was out of it. I was pretty much a space cadet for an entire month, but occasionally I had moments of clarity.

One day when the boys were out rounding up the herd to bring into the yards, I was back at camp with Cathy, the boss' wife. Cathy had the fantastic idea that I climb up on the water tower to get a great areal view of the herd as they stampeded into camp in a cloud of dust (much like the tragic scene in the Lion King). I looked at the rickety, rusted slats of metal that I was to use as a ladder and looked back at Cathy.
"I used to do it all the time at farm school," she said to assure me.
"All the way to the top? That's like 3 stories!" not trying to sound too impressed.
"Ya."
Well I didn't want to look like a wuss so, hand over hand, I climbed up. The ladder shook every time I took another step. I stopped about half way up and pulled out my camera with one hand. It slipped and as I reached for it, I nearly fell backwards. I clung to the tower with both arms and shook while thoughts of my broken body on the ground bellow ran through my head. Cathy was at the bottom looking up. "Go higher!"

I thought about all the people who asked me to be careful and how angry they would be if my demise was in pursuit of a cool picture.

"No, I can't!" I said and started to climb down.
"Why not?"

I didn't answer and just walked away. I ended up getting a pretty cool picture from the roof of the barn, but Cathy continuously reminded me that it would've been better from the TOP of the water tower. So there you have it. It IS in me to walk away.

So to all of you worriers: I'm asking you to trust me. Trust that I have had plenty of time think through this one (much more time than I ever wanted). Yes, I have been reckless with my safety in the past but I have learned from those mistakes. Trust that with every decision I make, I not only think about how it's going to effect me, but also how it could effect those important people in my life. I promise I'll be careful.