The contact of the landing gear with the paved runway shook me awake. Peering through the window – shapes and shadows blended together into the darkness of the early morning.
The sun had not yet seared its way through the zenith of the sky.
We shuffled out of the plane, trying to keep our balance as men and women, garbed in bubus and mulafas, pressed themselves toward the exit door.
We were met by a handful of Peace Corps staff and volunteers. Those first hours were spent gathering and sorting luggage, taking rolls, piling into Peace Corps vans and getting shipped to local hotels.
We spent that first day in Nouakchott, all 57 of us bleary eyed, tired, a bit confused. The beginnings of 27 months, I think to myself.
[Booyeah! Tolstoy eat your heart out!]
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1 comment:
I think I read these posts out of order. And now I really appreshiate toillets hmm i can't spell the word, but im thankfull no one is taking a dump while I buy my food. Oh crap, i have to get back to lab. I'll write more later, you're a very good writer by the way and you should write more. :)
Kate
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