I wake to the sound of crumpling plastic. A gentle reflection of light drifts through my window curtain. Today we made fried eggs with toast and jam. A blanket of warm weather greets us as we finish our morning meal. A strong breeze begins to pick up. Once again the ever-present smell of  burning wood fills the air.

We take a tour of the cultural center of Zambia. Yvonne teaches us about some customs and activities of males and females pre-colonization.
 

We learn about the dying culture of family, based heavily around respect for one another.
Establishing an enhanced bond with the senses were warning signs for unexpected attacks.
Reliance on family members and trust in tradition kept the family going.
Lifestyles revolved around gathering and preparing food hygienically.
A culture of deep respect kept everyone happy.
The culture of money changed all that.

America, the land of abundance.
No rituals, no self restraint..Pure indulgence.
No respect for the whole body, the ecosystem.

It is a journey of self discovery. Finding who we really are can never really end.
I embrace you with open arms.

  

Another sleepless night.  Sitting here, basking in the omnipresent hum of whirling turbines. A surreal experience of exhaustion and anxiety. Frozen… waiting.. A new hope dwindles as surely as the rising moon.

6 hours, one movie, dinner and breakfast later:

As the sun rises, the blanket of golden rays moves gently across the open planes.  Reflections of rivers spot the flatlands. Rolling hills hand in hand with unidentifiable mist. A feeling of pure and indistinguishable connection.

Zambia, we are here. But we are not home yet. Our journey takes us to Timmy, our bus driver, who drives a Japanese build, Chinese imported mini bus. The welcoming sunlight gleams happily over our shoulders. The spaciousness is embraced by our cramped legs.

We take a brake from the Lusaka to Chikuni drive. Arcades, a strip mall with cash exchanges, grocery stores, Americans and familiar food. We load up on our beverages for the rest of the trip. Assorted juices, sodas and tons of cider. We going to be set on drinks for a long time.
 

As we roll across the opposite side of traffic,
the smell of burning fields pervade the air.
Flat lands of rolling grass and towering termite hills
Bill boards of Pepsi-Cola. All too familiar, yet to tired to
Make a difference. Passerby’s glance with an intrigued look.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, it is night. The sun is setting early. Students, bikers and

Basket carrying woman still meander the streets. The first thing that comes to mind…we must make it before the darkness.

The next thing I know, we are driving on a cattle grazing trial. Barley enough space for our car and a helpful biker. We travel in the night for over an hour, no end in sight. People zig zag the uneven trial across our blinding headlights.

We are here!! Its too dark for me to read what our destination is. 48 hours, from Seattle to Chikuni. We are finally able to rest. Yvonne, greets us and presents us with a traditional Zambian dinner of boiled chicken, potatoes, rice, cabbage and a traditional staple, nshima. We eat with our hands.

We are fortunate enough to have hot running water where we can take showers. Bunk beds are here for us with mosquito nets. We have the whole night to ourselves. How can I sleep?


  

Its 1:00am U.S time and we are still  hours away from our 12 hour layover in Frankfurt, Germany.
The itinerary is reduced to activities that can only be accessed in a 2ft x 2ft cube, sleeping, eating, movie watching… The drone of the engines and 600 mile winds cancel any effort to elaborate on the self. Everyone is frozen in space and mind towards the flashing screen fixed comfortably within your gaze.
We are lifeless.

Arrival at 3:00am U.S time. My first time in Europe, the sun is out and beaming through a partially cloudless day. The morning has just begun in Frankfurt and vendors are slowly preparing their services for the coming crowds of business elites. Everything seems the same between here and 10 hours ago: cars, bikes, Caucasians, shopping malls… a metropolis.

Fatigue is kicking in with full force. Walking around the town with 40 pounds of backpack really makes you wonder why you really need anything. New words all around yet the same logos that dominate the middle class consumer, McDonalds, H&M, Starbucks. The people here are much less concerned with the anomaly of my foreignness, we are all humans. The Euro is twice the value of U.S currency, a heavy toll on the wallet, who knew Europe could be so expensive?

Through the intricate web of tunnels and train tracks, we make our way back to the airport to board our next flight to Africa… 10.5 hours later of well deserved sleep!
  

on an exotic journey, where nothing is off limits and adventure awaits! Forget the discovery channel, this is where the rawest experiences will come to life and I want to share every step of the way with you. Get ready… to unleash your inner asian! !

                                            “The Best of Men is like water; 

                                             Water benefits all things

                                             And does not compete with them. 

                                             It dwells in the lowly places that all disdain, -”