Help!

I'm supposed to leave my house in fifteen minutes and am decidedly not ready. I thought I had everything under pretty good control--after all, I was fitting ALL of my stuff in two medium-sized suitcases--when my mom checked the airline regulations and we discovered that no single bag can weigh more than 70 pounds. And guess what? One of them was 74.1 lbs. I would go on but as you can imagine I mostly need to get out of my house, and not be writing this update.

See you next from across the pond and just south of the equator!

A Poem

I was poking around the Internet last night, and came across this poem on the website for Blixen's Africa safari website (Karen Blixen, aka Isak Dinesen, wrote Out of Africa on which the Sydney Pollack film is based).


"Africa" by Emily Dibb

When you've acquired a taste for dust,
The scent of our first rain,
You're hooked for life on Africa
And you'll not be right again
Till you can watch the setting moon
And hear the jackals bark
And know that they're around you,
Waiting in the dark.

When you long to see the Elephants,
Or to hear the coucal's song,
When the moonrise sets you blood on fire,
You've been away too long.
It's time to cut the traces loose
And let you're heart go free
Beyond that far horizon,
Where your spirit yearns to be.


http://www.blixensafrica.com/index.html

The poem reminds me a lot of the John Masefield poem, "I must go down to the sea again" for its romanticization of life in Africa just as Masefield romanticizes life at sea. The Masefield poem, while certainly beautiful, I quickly learned was not what being at sea was all about: there was no mention of the smells of a boat, the pains of sea sickness, the glories of getting on hand and knee and scrubbing each little corner below decks with a toothbrush.

So, though I myself dream of and imagine being met with those beautiful images of Dibb's poem, I still wonder what Africa will really be like. I know that Timi doesn't like the oppressive heat, and made the great suggestion that I bring some trash novels with me since I won't have the energy to read anything too intellectual in such hot conditions. But right now, I still don't think anything can be worse than trying to stand watch for four hours at night when you've been up since 5am, spent most of the day lying on the deck trying to fight the nausea, have thrown up twice, have taken promethazine which is putting you to sleep, and are about to throw up again. But that's just my opinion.

Hat? Check

I'm fired up and ready to go: I've got my safari hat. I was told at the store that it is in the Hemingway style, especially if you button up one side of it. Anyway, now that I've got my official safari gear, the rest of packing everything I will need for the next four months should be easy, right? I mean, let's face it, theoretically I could just head to Kenya with that hat and a bunch of Barack Obama paraphernalia with which to barter and be set for the entire time.

My main goal for this week is not to fall back on my typical practice. For example, last summer when I had to pack for a month-long voyage from Hawaii to San Francisco I spent the morning of my flight to Hawaii madly throwing things into my suitcases with the help of three other people. Like this trip to Kenya, I had to bring everything I needed for that month on the ship, because obviously I couldn't run to the store in the middle of the Pacific to pick up some toothpaste. But the challenge for the voyage was also to minimize what I was bringing because all of my personal items went into my bunk with me, as space is limited on a boat. By contrast, now I am packing for four months, and I'm pretty sure I could fill up an entire suitcase with toiletries, bug spray, and sun screen alone. Anyway that morning last June, I was convinced that I would miss my plane, and though I did somehow manage to make it, needless to say it was not a fun experience. So now, with just under a week left until I'm schedule to travel, my goal is to do everything in a calm and orderly manner. We'll see how that goes.