Sunday reflections

It is Sunday in Pointe Noire. The flight from Toronto to Frankfurt seemed to last forever. My seat mate had some "boundary" and etiquette issues as I found myself sharing far too much of my "personal space" on the cross Atlantic journey. I was poked, jostled, and smothered most of the trip. Although it was a little warm, it was difficult to get much rest as he removed his cardigan, shoes and socks and the beginning of the flight, only to struggle to get dressed again once on descent.

By comparison, the trip to Congo was wonderful. We boarded a smaller 737 yet for some reason it did not have a slot at the gate. Instead we were driven out to the airplane then ran through pouring rain to stand on the stairs waiting our turn to get aboard and out of the showers. There were many free seats so I had an empty seat beside me. The refreshments were frequent, the food was good and the flight relaxing to allow for an extended nap. We left a few passengers in Libreville, Gabon and the remaining 17 of us continued to Congo. Somehow this was not the Africa I remember. No great throngs of arriving passengers; no long waits or hassles to clear customs; collecting baggage within a few minutes; the 4 of us divided between 2 Mercy Ship land rovers and were aboard ship within 45 minutes of arrival.

Scents are such a powerful connection to memory. Just walking from the plane I knew that I was back in Africa. The scent of diesel amid the warm humid evening air. There are no fences surrounding the airport. People sit on the grass beside the runway to watch the aircraft arrive while others walk unhurried across active runways. It must br Africa.

I have seen a few familiar faces, have reacquainted myself with the ship and have settled into my cabin. I start work tomorrow. Apparently there have not been the number, nor severity of cases that have usually been seen. I look forward to seeing what my days here will bring.