YUP, LOOKS LIKE AFRICA

yeah, we inally landed on african soil after a time bending 21 hours of travel although in fairness to time bending travelers everywhere, 8 of those hours were spent staving off sleep in the ''E'' terminal of Charles DeGaulle airport. We left philadelphia at 6 pm on the 9th of july and after 7 hours of psuedo sagacious french stewards, crap fish pudingesque dinner entrees and alot to much turbulance, we landed and the aformentioned sleep staving began. i thought that holding of sleep until at least our flight to bamako would give me a shot at a better nights sleep once in our training site. the flight to bamako was much smoother and 2 hour quicker thus better. If you havnt had the chance to fly over the entire north -south expanse of the sahara desert, you have probely done more interesting things with your time. At least two hours of ceaseless, un erring desert. It may role, it may undulate and inspire awe in generations of touraegs, but from an Air France 747 airbus, it lulls, and boggles the mind. tiny Lego block house will eventually pop up on what you assume is the cusp of civilization, but no, and better still but why!! how did these people end up so far out, in so inhospitable a place. but as the sun goes down and throws a foggy orange film over the preceedings, darkness muscles in and the limited Bamako lights start to pop up. a quiet, easy decent into so much unknown....THENYOUREINTHEBAMAKOAIRPORTANDITSAMADRUSHTENDEEPTHREEWIDESCRAMBELING FORBAGSPUSHTHROUCUSTOMSPASSINGONOFFERSFORHELPFORAHANDANDOUTTOTHEBUSLOADUP....quiet again, and a drive through the city reveals people, lots of people and a pulse of activity. Roadside stands and tiny fires from the hawker selling wears on the road out. shacks with SIM cards and plastic jugs, the brand new peugot dealer, seedy nightclubs, and the Niger river, wide, black ebbing, dirty and high because its the rainy season. But Bamako passes and the lights go out and the rickety green people haulers roll by in the other direction, and down redder dirt roads the training facility creeps up. Non descript, dark and holding its scope until the first light of a new day in Africa, we straggled off the bus and in our silent, clamy, uncertainty made our way to hour lodging. mosquito nets and three beds to a room, we lay our bags down and head to the refectoire for snacks and blank stares, then most likley bed. the next day brought sun, humidity, forms to fill out termite hills large as sub-zero's and a new landscape to reckon, all whiloe shakng off the greatest ''where the hell am i when you wake up'' feeling ever. each day a new one and each day a new challenge. we leave the comound tuesday for our home stay, blinders off and africa in stereo. more later