Today I decided to try the bus system and went on a little trip to the sea, a long strip of sand housing numerous little fishing boats. This Sunday morning the place was empty and quiet, a perfect spot for a contemplative mind and restless feet.
As I was walking along I caught up with a young man doing his Sunday promenade on the beach. I greeted him and we both stopped in our tracks, curious to find out what had brought another soul to such a desolate place. I offered him some water, sat down in the moist sand and a very interesting conversation begun. As he shared his story I was amazed at his courage and spirit. His name is Nicolas and he is my new best friend. Now I need to find him a phone so that I can call him and tell him good morning and good evening and ask him what he had for dinner; because when you are best friends, those things matter.
All Love
August 25, 2013
August 15, 2013
Flying African
A few days ago I left Sweden, travelling by air to Pointe Noire in Congo to join the ship. Now, I was flying over night and had a connection flight from Addis Ababa in Ethiopia. This is the story...
It was with sleepy steps I made my way through the airport only to get stuck in the queue to security. As I reached the desk I was suddenly struck by an immense sense of nausea and almost threw up in the security box. It was with wobbly steps I managed to drag my faint self away, and once I recovered I discovered that cold sweating doesn't make a cold waiting hall any more comfortable. As I was sitting there shivering I counted down the minutes until I could finally board the flight to Congo. Well, I was to discover flying African can be unreliable.
First of all, they didn't start boarding the planes until the said departure time. Secondly, most planes seemed to board from the same gate, no matter which gate was displayed at the screen, causing passengers to rush through the waiting hall in order to catch their flights. When the time had finally come for us to board we were told to sit down and wait. Instead they boarded the plane to Togo. We waited as our flight was delayed one hour. The next thing we knew, our flight was removed from the screen and people went up to query what was happening. Our flight reappeared, delayed yet another hour, and I was devastated. At that point I was both cold and hungry, nodding off from lack of sleep during the previous flight. As I looked up again I discovered our plane had been delayed a third time, and I decided to join the group of unsettled passengers gathering near the desk by the gate. No available planes they said, and we all wondered what the planes fully visible outside the windows were being used for. They said we might have to switch airlines, and asked us to wait another twenty minutes in order for them to sort things out. Then our flight was removed from the screen again - cancelled, they said. At that point we were all cold, hungry and moody, and upset passengers started shouting at the staff, demanding to see the manager. It all got really feisty, and once the manager finally came around a mob of twenty angry African men literally cornered him and shouted at him in various dialects for a good few minutes. The next thing we heard, there would be a plane ready and fuelled up within 38 minutes. And wouldn't you know it, after about 40 minutes we got told we could start boarding, and we all rushed through the gate like it was a race for life or death, eager to get a seat on that plane.
All in all our flight was delayed 5 hours, but then, at least we got there in the end. Uncivilised perhaps, but effective - I am grateful to the men that dared to threaten the airport manager in order to get us a plane to Pointe Noire that day!
All Love
It was with sleepy steps I made my way through the airport only to get stuck in the queue to security. As I reached the desk I was suddenly struck by an immense sense of nausea and almost threw up in the security box. It was with wobbly steps I managed to drag my faint self away, and once I recovered I discovered that cold sweating doesn't make a cold waiting hall any more comfortable. As I was sitting there shivering I counted down the minutes until I could finally board the flight to Congo. Well, I was to discover flying African can be unreliable.
First of all, they didn't start boarding the planes until the said departure time. Secondly, most planes seemed to board from the same gate, no matter which gate was displayed at the screen, causing passengers to rush through the waiting hall in order to catch their flights. When the time had finally come for us to board we were told to sit down and wait. Instead they boarded the plane to Togo. We waited as our flight was delayed one hour. The next thing we knew, our flight was removed from the screen and people went up to query what was happening. Our flight reappeared, delayed yet another hour, and I was devastated. At that point I was both cold and hungry, nodding off from lack of sleep during the previous flight. As I looked up again I discovered our plane had been delayed a third time, and I decided to join the group of unsettled passengers gathering near the desk by the gate. No available planes they said, and we all wondered what the planes fully visible outside the windows were being used for. They said we might have to switch airlines, and asked us to wait another twenty minutes in order for them to sort things out. Then our flight was removed from the screen again - cancelled, they said. At that point we were all cold, hungry and moody, and upset passengers started shouting at the staff, demanding to see the manager. It all got really feisty, and once the manager finally came around a mob of twenty angry African men literally cornered him and shouted at him in various dialects for a good few minutes. The next thing we heard, there would be a plane ready and fuelled up within 38 minutes. And wouldn't you know it, after about 40 minutes we got told we could start boarding, and we all rushed through the gate like it was a race for life or death, eager to get a seat on that plane.
All in all our flight was delayed 5 hours, but then, at least we got there in the end. Uncivilised perhaps, but effective - I am grateful to the men that dared to threaten the airport manager in order to get us a plane to Pointe Noire that day!
All Love
August 05, 2013
There Is No Shame Between Sisters
I dedicate this blog post to my two wonderful sisters Rut and Sara.
Being a woman, I count myself truly blessed having sisters. Sisters, whether linked by blood or not, are treasured people who know more about us than we would ever like to be revealed to the world. They have endured our most longwinded stories, seen us at our most pathetic moments, and they have encouraged us tirelessly. They are always ready with advice, being it on the subject of relationships, career, or body-related issues. There is no shame between sisters. When I fear condemnation by the rest of the world, when I have problems I am too ashamed to confess - it is to my sisters I come. With my beloved two I have laughed so hard my urethral sphincter has struggled to keep tight. We've sung along with the most cheesy songs, many times combined with interpretive dancing and various utensils as props. Together we have thrown every stitch of clothing, breasts and bottoms wobbling as we've run toward the waterline over cliffs, jetties and beaches. There have been movie nights, massage nights and girl talk nights. I believe there are no words to fully express how much my sisters actually mean to me and how much I treasure our moments together.
Within the last month I have seen both of my sisters getting married, and it brought me such joy being able to see my beloved two dance in the arms of the men they both spent so many years speculating and dreaming about.
I love you more than you know
All Love
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