One way ticket to Monrovia
In the beginning
It was a tough good-bye. You wonder, as you play soccer with the nephews and nieces or shoot the breeze with the brother-in-laws, whether it is worth it as you leave to go for a year away and then pop back into everybody’s life. It was a bit of a heavy feeling and it didn’t lift from my chest as I said good-bye to my brother.
I had one last stop at Timmy’s before heading out of Vancouver. The flight to Monrovia was a bit of a milk run, but quite enjoyable. I met this really interesting guy in Chicago. I was taking the tram from one terminal to another when a guy with corn rows started asking questions. Charles loved music so we chatted about his production studio. We parted ways after talking for five minutes, but after walking away he turned around and gave me a copy of the music he produced. I listened to it while lounging in the airport. Woh…it was some hard rap complete with some very interesting lyrics about women and desire. I chuckled to myself and put in some Celtic music.
While flying over Europe my mind began to wander. The brick houses had the appearance of children’s toys as we increased our altitude. I thought back to just a few hours earlier and thought that the airport was a reflection of what was going on below. People are busy in Brussels. While waiting for a connecting flight I watched the people run from one of the terminal building to the other. Young and old alike were rushing to make it on their flights to “destination unknown.” All that I heard on the intercom every 15 minutes was…”this is the last call for the boarding of flight 152 leaving for Moscow.” There would then be a rush of people and then the calm would return to a peaceful state.
I drifted for some time. I came to and peered out of the window. What? Could it be? Yes, I was flying over the rock of Gibraltar. We were cruising at an altitude of 37,000 feet, so it was hard to pick out the definition of the rock. The view was incredible. Here was the outline of Spain and Portugal. Just to the South was Morocco. So much history here. How many boats have sailed through that mouth of water? What did the Vikings think as the warm Mediterannean breeze reddened their cheeks? Did the Greeks dream of sailing beyond this mouth? Did the Romans sail beyond this boundary? I need to read more on the maritime journies that began from the points. Any recommendations?
Does anyone have any factual tidbits that you would like to share? And how about some legends surrounding the Rock of Gibraltar?
We touched down in Dhakar. Senegal looks to be a must see place. Flat roofed houses, amazing beaches and desert areas that appear inhospitable. Next time I will need to get off the plane to check it all out. All in good time though.
Monrovia. As we began our descent I was overwhelmed with the beauty of the landscape. Those who live in BC are familiar with the forests and the vastness of a forested scene. But picture a land where there are forests with no break. From the sky I saw a few open pit mines in Sierra Leone, but besides these small interjections of open exploit there was nothing but green forests. (or jungle as we like to call it).
As the plane descended the reality of my journey was becoming concrete. One year. So many questions, so much time to figure them out. I want this blog to be an open forum of discussion and idea sharing. What will this job be like? Am I ready for it? I believe that we are ready for whatever life brings us and in good time we will see how it lines up with God's dreams.
Life is a journey - Let's live it. Be strong my friends.
It was a tough good-bye. You wonder, as you play soccer with the nephews and nieces or shoot the breeze with the brother-in-laws, whether it is worth it as you leave to go for a year away and then pop back into everybody’s life. It was a bit of a heavy feeling and it didn’t lift from my chest as I said good-bye to my brother.
I had one last stop at Timmy’s before heading out of Vancouver. The flight to Monrovia was a bit of a milk run, but quite enjoyable. I met this really interesting guy in Chicago. I was taking the tram from one terminal to another when a guy with corn rows started asking questions. Charles loved music so we chatted about his production studio. We parted ways after talking for five minutes, but after walking away he turned around and gave me a copy of the music he produced. I listened to it while lounging in the airport. Woh…it was some hard rap complete with some very interesting lyrics about women and desire. I chuckled to myself and put in some Celtic music.
While flying over Europe my mind began to wander. The brick houses had the appearance of children’s toys as we increased our altitude. I thought back to just a few hours earlier and thought that the airport was a reflection of what was going on below. People are busy in Brussels. While waiting for a connecting flight I watched the people run from one of the terminal building to the other. Young and old alike were rushing to make it on their flights to “destination unknown.” All that I heard on the intercom every 15 minutes was…”this is the last call for the boarding of flight 152 leaving for Moscow.” There would then be a rush of people and then the calm would return to a peaceful state.
I drifted for some time. I came to and peered out of the window. What? Could it be? Yes, I was flying over the rock of Gibraltar. We were cruising at an altitude of 37,000 feet, so it was hard to pick out the definition of the rock. The view was incredible. Here was the outline of Spain and Portugal. Just to the South was Morocco. So much history here. How many boats have sailed through that mouth of water? What did the Vikings think as the warm Mediterannean breeze reddened their cheeks? Did the Greeks dream of sailing beyond this mouth? Did the Romans sail beyond this boundary? I need to read more on the maritime journies that began from the points. Any recommendations?
Does anyone have any factual tidbits that you would like to share? And how about some legends surrounding the Rock of Gibraltar?
We touched down in Dhakar. Senegal looks to be a must see place. Flat roofed houses, amazing beaches and desert areas that appear inhospitable. Next time I will need to get off the plane to check it all out. All in good time though.
Monrovia. As we began our descent I was overwhelmed with the beauty of the landscape. Those who live in BC are familiar with the forests and the vastness of a forested scene. But picture a land where there are forests with no break. From the sky I saw a few open pit mines in Sierra Leone, but besides these small interjections of open exploit there was nothing but green forests. (or jungle as we like to call it).
As the plane descended the reality of my journey was becoming concrete. One year. So many questions, so much time to figure them out. I want this blog to be an open forum of discussion and idea sharing. What will this job be like? Am I ready for it? I believe that we are ready for whatever life brings us and in good time we will see how it lines up with God's dreams.
Life is a journey - Let's live it. Be strong my friends.
Comments