a most excellent adventure, part 1

Last week, I went to Musana Camps, NHU's Lake Victoria location. 

Musana panorama - wow.

A short-term team had come from the Dakotas to work there, so I joined the group from Kasana that went to visit them (not because I knew the Dakota people, mainly because I had the week off work and might as well go to camp as stay here!). 

While at camp, I did all sorts of baking and dish-washing to help out. But I also was able to take some time for rest and exploration. Below is a picture of the 'adventure walk' that Julia and I took one afternoon.

Off we go!

The team was working hard creating a new road, fixing cars, painting houses, building culverts and walls, and doing lots of handy-man work in general. 

dump truck! 

Creating a new water system

Later in the week, the whole group took an adventure to the waterfall that's on Musana's property...pictures of that coming soon!

a new obsession

I consider myself a pretty well-traveled person, considering my age and station in life. There are always more places I want to go, though--with a life goal of joining an elite club of travelers, new locations and experiences are a must!

Within the continental U.S., I only have 4 states left to reach my goal of visiting all 50 states before age 30! And now, thanks to my roommate and a few others, I feel like I'm ready to hit that most intimidating of states: North Dakota. 

Apparently this game called Farkle is quite popular there...and we've discovered that I'm surprisingly talented at this game of chance and risk. 

North Dakota Farkle champions, watch out!

nomading. plus also, i'm moving to africa in 12 weeks.

“So, where are you from?”

It’s a common enough question when making small talk with new acquaintances, but it strikes dismay into every nomad’s heart. Does the person want the long or the short story? How much information is too much information? Can’t we just go back to ‘stranger danger’ days??

My answer to this question depends on the day, the time, the location, the company, and the weather. The short version is “Virginia”…or “Alabama.” The complex version is“Well, I live in Virginia right now, but I’m moving to Uganda in the fall. I was a military brat, so I’m an East Coaster, raised from Maine to Florida. And my family lives in Alabama, so that’s what I claim as home.”

I pity the sucker who thinks of this “innocuous” question while making small talk!

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During the past month, I’ve been traipsing around the country, visiting family and friends. The life of an unemployed nomad has been enjoyable, refreshing after a season of hard work. Soon enough, I’ll be starting my summer job, working long days outdoors and having a blast while doing it. After the summer, only 12 weeks from today, I’ll be moving to Africa for a completely new adventure! 12 weeks. That’s not very long at all.

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On one final note, this past week I finished my fourteenth flight of 2012. I’ve been on fourteen different airplanes this year! The week, however, also commemorates my final flight of 2012 until I fly to Uganda. Good thing, since I’ll need a few months without airports or airplanes to work up the guts for a 24+ hour trip…

this guy bought his plane tickets from a third-party travel site...

driving solo

Most of the forms of travel in which I am completely inexperienced are not popular in the USA: trains, camels, rickshaws, elephants, motorcycles, gondolas, and sled-dogs.

Still, in my first-world life, I have enough experience to be mobile in a variety of ways: buses, bicycles, ships, horses, metros (i.e., subways), and swimming.

The list of transportation forms in which I am highly experienced is small: my own two feet, airplanes, and cars.

Unfortunately, those last two forms are the ones which I also dislike the most. Familiarity breeds contempt, so they say.

Or perhaps simply situations like the one I experienced yesterday:

On the interstate, driving home from a friend's house in NC, I-81 decided to host a 'slow down the traffic' party.

As you can tell from my speedometer, the party was working.

I'm not a big fan of parties on the interstate.

There's only so much Michael Buble and Pringles I can take at speeds of 20mph.

Well, at least the party was for a good cause...*

Cows. I've never ridden a cow either.

Wonder how fast they go?

*disclaimer: I'm not advocating car crashes! Just sayin' I'd rather have traffic for a reason than for no reason...which HAS happened to me before...

Stars

I'm returning from another trip to California.

This go-round, I saw several stars.

We couldn't find Robert Redford, but Paul Newman rocks too!

Personally, my favorite star of the weekend was this babe:

And of course, the weekend couldn't have been so star-studded if it weren't for the alignment of this trio (I'm still surprised there wasn't an earthquake when we finally got together):

So farewell once more California...

Hopefully I'll be back again someday!

Crazy Planes

This picture is from a true incident that happened the other night. Dude.

If those kind of things can happen on the runway, I'm kinda scared to go up in the sky...

Citizenship

The other evening, prompted by our women's Bible study at church, I had quite the brainstorm. We read Philippians 3:20-4:1, but I got stuck in the first verse: "But our citizenship is in heaven [...]."

What, exactly, does citizenship in heaven MEAN? I wondered. Well, what does being an American citizen mean? But wait, I'm not IN heaven, so it's more like, what does being an American citizen overseas feel like?

And I present you with my two conclusions:

1) When I'm in another country, I try to fit the culture (basic rule of traveling!). But at the points where I just can't seem to figure out what's going on or even how to act in a very foreign situation, I realize that my confusion (and sometimes dislike!) come from the fact that I am a citizen of another country...and I'm conditioned to act in ways appropriate to my (in this case American) culture.

Likewise and more importantly, I'm a citizen of heaven, of God's country (as C.S. Lewis might say). Hence, while I'm here on earth, whether in America or another country, there are areas where I will "fit in"(ie, be comfortable), but ultimately, I will be and should be revolted by some of the situations on earth because my 'culture' (where my TRUE citizenship is) is God's country...and things like mass murder, lies, and nasty drivers don't exist there.

2) Again, when I'm in a different country, I can't always buys things that I would normally find in America. For example, when I'm in Europe, peanut butter is missing from my life. And when I'm in America, I can't find fresh mango juice like I can in Uganda. Certain items can only be found in certain countries--that's why those are special items.

Likewise, while I'm here on earth, anything that I could normally receive in God's country, I might not be able to find here. So, for instance, in heaven there are streets of gold...and here on earth there are not. In heaven, there are no more tears...but here on earth, there are. In heaven, there is a lack of hardship...but here on earth, I will have hardships. In heaven, there is no loneliness...but on earth, I will be lonely at times.

Perfect peace, perfect companionship, a perfect life--these things can only be found in my real home, where I'm a citizen. And until I get there, I just have to keep plugging along, making do in my current location but never forgetting that "[my] citizenship is in heaven, and from it [I] await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform [my] lowly body to be like his glorious body."

A Wild Car Story (part 2)

We returned to the convention center, vying for sidewalk space with an increasing number of Riverfest attendees. We found the bathroom (where the sink handle proceeded to break off in my hand), and we sank into a couple chairs outside the vendor hall just in time for the call.

The conversation started poorly. “The tow company can’t get you until midnight,” claimed Roadside Service. “There’s some festival in downtown Wichita that has brought in 10,000 extra people and is closing all the roads there.”

I jumped up to grab a map from the conference hosts. “Tell them I can get them here! These roads aren’t closed!” I gestured frantically at the map while Brit-Brit attempted to listen both to me and the Roadside Service agent. She calmly relayed my insistence to the agent.

“I’m very sorry, but we simply cannot retrieve the car until midnight. And we cannot release a new car to you until the current one has been towed. Let me check if we can deliver a car to you by 7am.”

Brit-Brit and I resumed our seats, she calmly explaining the dilemma, I fuming at inefficiency and poor service. Our opposing approaches to the situation resulted in quite the brilliant (and logical) brainstorm: if the rental car company couldn’t get a car to our hotel by 7am, we would simply have to cancel our contract and find another rental company.

****************

"Did you push the start button?"

"Yes, we've tried everything and the car won't start."

"Does the key have a square end or a rounded end?"

Silence.

"Ma’am?"

"Um, it has a kind of rounded square end?"

Brit-Brit and our new Roadside Service agent, Charlie, repeated this conversation for about 10 minutes, finally determining that indeed it was not operator error and the car was truly broken. Meanwhile, I evaded overambitious homeschool security guards and finally found my convention contact to ask if we could catch a lift to our hotel.

When we reunited at the car, Charlie had managed to cut through a great deal of red tape on our behalf, to the point where he practically promised the delivery of a new car to our hotel within the hour. We manually locked the car, leaving the key under the backseat, and hiked all our stuff back to the convention center, where kindly board members of the convention delivered us to our hotel.

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The saga closed without much more drama: we finally ate dinner (huzzah for Pizza Hut delivery!) and the car arrived about 10:15pm. The whole episode only took three hours, though it felt much longer. And that leaves one more life lesson learned the hard way: always listen to your rental car’s feelings.

A Wild Car Story (part 1)

So here's a life lesson for you: cars are smarter than you think they are and getting smarter by the year. When your rental car tells you that the keyless entry system needs to be serviced, you better call the rental company ASAP...otherwise, you might end up stranded in a parking lot talking to Emergency Roadside Service for a few hours.

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The day started so inauspiciously: Brit-Brit spilled milk on her skirt. "This will be a strange day," she warned me. "I never spill things in the morning."

The omen seemed unfulfilled as the day passed. The rental car notified us that the keyless system needed servicing, but the notification disappeared within minutes. The convention went well, despite standing on the concrete floors for 11 hours, and we felt that all-in-all, it had been quite the successful day. Now, to find dinner and rest our weary legs at the hotel that evening.

We marveled at the throngs of people arriving for the Riverfest—this was a population vastly different than the families we had interacted with all day. On the brief walk to the car, we noted how the weather was quite nice: a bit warm, yet not nearly as humid as Virginia. We discussed where to find dinner: downtown Wichita? Or takeout?

Our thoughts of an easy evening were interrupted when the car wouldn’t unlock via the keyless remote. A bit perturbed, we finagled the physical key out of the remote and opened the car.

It refused to power on. In fact, the car was so locked down that the radio wouldn't even play as we sat there, attempting to find a keyhole where we could manually start the car. For goodness' sake, who would invent a keyless car with a 'push to start' button without a manual backup? "That person isn't making my 'smart list' right now," Brit-Brit quipped.

We called the rental company: "Yes, hello, our car won't start."

"Ok, we'll send a tow truck. It will take 30-60 minutes."

­­­­­­****************

The car was rather warm, and we were fairly hungry, so we manually locked it and wandered toward downtown Wichita, waiting for the 'rescue call.' Finding Wichita a rather deserted city, growing hungrier by the minute, and wishing we'd stopped at the ladies' room before leaving the convention center, we finally spotted a Quizno's on the next corner. Subs? Sure, it's better than nothing.

Except, Quizno's refused us entrance. "We can't let any more people in," they claimed. "Not even to use the bathroom?" we queried. "No, we're sorry."

Puzzled, since there were several empty tables, we wandered back to the convention center, laughing at the irony of our quandary: what else could happen tonight??

a strange airport happening

In honor of my trip tomorrow and airports in general, I give you a true story from a few weeks ago:

I strolled down the hall, stretching my legs during our 2+ hour layover in DFW. Having my father's fetish for knowing where I am and where I could be, I paused to examine the terminal map on the wall. Turning, I began the journey back to my seatmate, when I noticed an AirServe employee throw his hands up in exasperation. He caught my eye and quickly strode toward me.

"Ma'am! Are you waiting?" I looked at him in confusion. Am I not supposed to be down here? Why is this airport employee accosting me? Typically I view airport employees like lifeguards--we coexist but do not interact unless dire need or racaus behavior forces communication.

Airport Man continued: "Are you...keelling time? Are you waiting for your flight??" His urgency was unmistakable, though I could not understand why.

"Uh, yeah," I replied.

"Oh, can you help this ladeey?? She needs to be at gate A16! Can you please help her?"

"Um...sure..." I wavered between confusion and curiousity.

"Ok, ok, go get de wheelchair!" I obediently walked across the way; remembering the family with the '4-wheel lock' stroller from the previous day, I deftly unlocked the wheels and returned to Airport Man.

"Wheen is your flight? Do you have time?"

"Yeah, I have 45 minutes."

"Oooh," he glanced at his watch. "Ok, you take her and then you run back!" he exclaimed while pushing his arms back and forth like a runner.

We loaded the woman and her possessions onto the wheelchair. He chattered about gate A16 and if I saw anyone with his uniform, I should just pass her off to them (while making a motion that reminded me of a lateral football pass). From sheer curiousity, I asked him why he couldn't take her. "Oh, I half to drive upstairs! Ok, let's go! Oh wait! WAIT!!"

A cart drove by at that exact moment. "Wait, she needs to go to A16! Ok, thank you wery much!" (directed at me) "Come help me! A16!" (directed at the cart driver)

I stood for a minute, watching them load up, still slightly befuddled at the whole situation. "Thank you wery much!" Feeling the vibe that I was no longer needed, I turned and walked away, ending the entire scenario as abruptly as it had begun.

it's like magic

There are a lot of things in life that seem magical. How time can go fast and slow, all at the same moment, for instance (has it really been two weeks since my last post?? wow).

Here's another piece of magic: my knack for losing things while traveling. Ordinarily, I am a very organized, routine, and on-top-of-things person. When I travel, however, these parts of my personality seem to disappear, so much that I misplace not-insignificant items. On my Kansas trip, I lost my favorite black sweater. On my most recent trip, I lost a library book.

Yes, you read that right: I lost a library book.

Surprisingly, losing a library book is not actually a painful experience. Libraries were more sacred than churches in my childhood (after all, we had been known to run and shout in empty church auditoriums, but woe to the child that spoke above a whisper and moved faster than a walk in the library!). Overdue library books were a travesty, and losing a library book required pausing school and sacking the house until it was recovered.

Moreover, I lost a popular library book, one for which I had waited two weeks and for which many other people were waiting for me to return! I had lost both Harry Potter AND the Prisoner of Azkaban, all in one short airport tram ride!

$25 and a slightly bruised ego later, I left the library still in possession of a fully-functioning library card, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and a friendly relationship with the librarian. Still shocked that no further penalties were exacted from me, I felt obligated to call my mother to confess that as of age 24 years, 1 month, and 25 days, I no longer was a top-notch citizen.

I still have no idea where Harry and the Prisoner escaped to. I know they left the plane with me, and I know they did not make it to the baggage claim. I'd like to imagine they are gallivanting across the world right now, helping some poor soul survive a 10+ hour plane ride.

That sounds more fun than being poked, prodded, and possibly defused by a bomb squad.

"Seatbelts must be worn J.Lo style: low, tight and across the hips."

The summer is a very busy travel season for me. In fact, I might be setting a new record for myself in 2011: 4 trips in 7 weeks, to 4 different locations, starting today. Traveling can be a pain sometimes, but it's amazing how the little things can make traveling more (or less!) enjoyable.

Case in point: A Southwest flight a couple weeks ago had one of the funniest flight attendants ever. I just had to scribble out parts of his spiel...and I share them here for your enjoyment.

during opening safety presentation:

"Place the mask over your mouth and breeeeeathe normally." {he then proceeded to breathe like Darth Vader over the intercom system}

"We'll now be walking through the cabin to make sure your shoes and socks match."

"Don't mess with our flight attendants. We know jujuju-jitsu...and about three other Japanese words between the three of us."

as we were taxiing toward the runway

"To enhance my natural good looks, we're now going to dim the cabin lights. And don't forget, the more you sleep, the less we work!"

a day in annapolis

Last weekend was quite busy! Not only did I dye my hair pink, I also hosted an awesomely fabulous guest, my friend JenniMarie.

(and this is the point at which you all go check out her awesome photography blog and hire her to take your family/wedding/senior/miscellaneous portraits, because she is the ONLY person who takes pictures of me that I like. she's good. really good.)

We lollygagged around on Saturday, as I was semi-co-hosting a goodbye party for my housemates (did I not tell you the weekend was busy?). Then, on Sunday, while leaving the early service at church, we looked at each other and said 'let's go on an adventure.' And Jenni suggested Leesburg and I suggested Annapolis.

I hope you can pretty easily guess which city won.

We spent about an hour and a half there, exploring mostly the statehouse and the shoreline. And a couple back alleys.
I'd definitely recommend Annapolis for anyone interested in watching lots of big boats with rich people driving (boating? rowing? steering? how do you describe navigating a boat??) them. Pretty boats, generally handsome people wearing Sperrys, sunshine, and seagulls make for a pretty entertaining 30 minutes of sitting on the dock.

Just be warned: if the rich people start staring at you and steering their boat toward your dock and keep staring at you and start pushing their little bumper things off the side of the boat closest to you...they're probably going to park that big sucker right where you are sitting.

And you should probably move before that happens. Not as it's happening. Because that can be a little awkward.

Just sayin'...

South and Pacific, but not South Pacific

Just a few more pictures from my trip to California.

Reunited!

Last year, we were on an Atlantic beach and there were 3.5 of us.

This year, we were in the SoCal desert and there were all four of us!

This kid is too cute!

Me with the Pacific Ocean in the background.

This is after I got my suitcase back. SO NICE to change clothes!

San Diego!

Someday, I'll go back and tour there.

Can't wait to return to California later this summer!

insomnia! or, how to survive a night in the airport (part 2)

Well, as of yesterday, you'd been stranded in the airport, got yourself a confirmed flight for the next day, and found a place to chill for the night (whether a hotel, a cot, or a spot of carpet). So what to do for the next few hours?

6. If there's a chapel, you probably can't sleep in there. I ask you: whatever happened to seeking asylum in a church? Church, chapel...they're both houses of God!

My first thought upon seeing this sign: "So much for finding our rest in God" (proving that yes, I can have coherent and even mildly funny thoughts at 3am!).

7. Try to sleep. If you can't sleep, use the internet. You paid for it, after all. And keep envisioning your final destination. Or a happy place. Hopefully, they are one and the same.

(the beach. both a happy place and a destination.)

8. Eat breakfast and freshen. Hopefully the Starbucks will open before your flight departs. Visit the Starbucks, visit the bathroom. Yes, everyone around you looks awful, but that doesn't mean you need to!

9. Once you finally get on a flight and land at (or near) your final destination, find the nearest Wal-Mart and buy a change of clothes. Your suitcase is likely delayed even more than you were, and you've probably been wearing those clothes for 24+ hours. Give in: buy the clothes.

But if you are meeting up with friends, you might want to check what colors they are wearing that day.

10. When your bag finally arrives, be sure to note everywhere it has been and thank the heavens that you did not have to follow a similar path. My bag traveled from IAD-DFW-ONT-LAX-SAN before being driven to me in Escondido.

And that, folks, is how to survive a night in the airport! May you never have to use these tips...

stranded! or, how to survive a night in the airport {part 1}

So, a little over a week ago, I unexpectedly spent the night in DFW airport. It was quite the experience, and I will spare you the more horrific details. I did, however, want to share some tips and advice in you also ever find yourself stranded in an airport for 9+ hours.

1. Eat a large meal before takeoff. (this is more of a general travel tip. Since you never know when/where the next bite of food will come, always take advantage of food when available!). If you're at IAD, I recommend the Chipotle Mexican Grill in the B-terminal. Huge burrito for $7. Can't be beat.

(burrito, 1/3 of the way eaten)

2. When you first discover you are stranded, take a minute to panic. Then envision your final destination (and/or the goal of your trip). Remember, the airport is not your final resting place. You can make it through this.

(friends at your final destination can offer a great deal of emotional, over-the-phone support during an airport ordeal)

3. Get on the standby list for any airport within 2 hours of your destination. While standing in the line for the standby list, call the airline. Once you reach the airline (which will probably be after you reach the standby desk), get a seat on the earliest confirmed flight. You'll still be on the standby list, but at least now you have a confirmed backup option.

(within 2 hours of your destination, you can probably find a shuttle or taxi to get you there...better, if not cheaper, than spending another day in the airport!)

4. If you don't make it on a standby and your flight isn't until the next morning, find a hotel. Now, do NOT leave the security area until you have a confirmed hotel. Pay the $8-$15 for internet, beg a cell phone charger off a stranger (though you should know better than to check any electrical chargers!), and Google-map all the nearby hotels. Call them. Get a room.

5. If there aren't any hotel rooms available, hopefully your airport is nice enough to put out cots. Claim one. Use it. If there are no cots, but you're still behind security because you are smarter than me, there will likely be carpeted floors. At the very least, claim a spot on there!

(my cot, outside security--hence the very hard tile floor)

(to be continued tomorrow)

Seals on a Beach

No cryptic title here...just a picture of seals on a California beach from my trip this past weekend!

Funny story about these seals: I was walking along the sidewalk, which is about 20 feet above the sea, since the California coast is a little 'cliff-y' in La Jolla. I admired the Pacific ocean, the hotels, the cloudy sky, when I noticed all these people staring into the ocean at one particular point along the sidewalk/wall. So naturally, I went over there and stared too. There was a little cove with a beach, and stairs going down to the beach. A sign proclaimed that the beach was open for swimming, "please watch for wildlife." But no one was swimming! Instead, everyone was staring at the beach, which at first glance seemed to have the largest number of strangely shaped rocks. Why, I wondered, is everyone staring at these rocks?

And then one of the rocks moved.

About 30 minutes later, I left the beach, sprinted through a brief section of La Jolla and back to my car for the final drive to the airport. Seals are distracting.

I'll even give you a video of the seals. This'll make you laugh, trust me.

And if that didn't make you laugh, this link to the best Twitter feed ever will.

Some Life Lemons

The past three weeks of my life have included some really strange events, such as my phone escaping to Oklahoma for 4 days, getting stuck in Boston traffic because my navigational senses failed, flattening a tire, sinkholes on interstates, and of course, the typical 'conference season mini-catastrophes' at work.

Sometimes, I feel like Ramona. Or Amelia Bedelia.

At least my life is interesting and gives me lots of stories! Recently, after a friend was regaled with my latest mis-adventure-at-that-point, she suggested that I write a book. And she even gave me a title!

Lemonade for Life:

Lessons from my (mis) Adventures

I laughed it off, but after the past four days, I think she might actually have a point.

A brief synopsis: I got stuck in DFW on the way to California. Overnight. Without a hotel (see picture).

At least they provided cots!!

But the ordeal was worth it: I got to see Meg and Ryan and Elisabeth!