Able to go back home

Bahai and Oure Cassoni are surreal places. As we ride full speed on our Toyotas across the desert, seeing rebels racing next to us, it seems like I am in a movie. The harshness of the environment quickly dissolves any illusion. I was thirsty every minute I was out there, even though I always had access to water.

I am starting to move back to my own reality, the one I’m used to, one jump at a time—the same way we moved away from it. We are now in Abeche, in a room that has electricity most of the day and running water half of the time. Tomorrow morning we fly to N’Djamena and get to hang out at Le Meridien. It is definitely not a luxury hotel by western standards, but it feels like a five star after spending time in the east of the country.

That same night, we get in to an Air France flight. The seating is cramped , and the food is, well, airline food, but it will feel comfortable, and I will eat everything they give me. It is all relative.

I am going back home. I have the privilege of doing this. I get to see my children again. I miss them so much! I get to eat all that I like again, and the problem is deciding what to eat . What a problem! I go back to not worrying about unpredictable things like rebels, extreme weather, and availability of water. I am truly privileged.

As this trip comes to an end, I again want to challenge myself to find better and different ways to make a positive difference on the people we met. We have to be creative and more daring in our actions. We have very little to lose. They have nothing.

Paz,
g