The Finite

So there’s this big rift valley and we decided to all go out and hike into it. Then we hike out of it. The end.

Well, there’s also giraffes and shit.

Oh, and a water feature.

Some of my peers might have had trouble with it *coughStacycough*, but I managed to stay upright for the most part. My surefooted mountaineering skills may come from my large feet. I may be wearing boy’s size (husky) jeans, but these shoes are a men’s 11.

It’s this red dirt that we have here. If not for the vegetation, this place would have a very Martian color palette. It’s also super clay-ey and after it sets, it can pack down into a firm, running track-like surface. (This would probably explain all the skinny dudes running around for miles at a time.)

But when it gets wet, it turns into a very smooth mud that is great at holding onto moisture and staying muddy for a long time. Not good for hiking. Worse for walking through with dress shoes. Great for dirt castles.

But overall, this place reminds me a lot of Vietnam. Except maybe a little bit classier. You get the overcrowded smelly diesel vehicles, motorcycles who respect no one and street vendors selling all manner of things. Except here they sell argyle socks and I’m told there’s a man with a wagon full of cardigans. In Vietnam, you were lucky to find a decent t-shirt stand by the side of the road.

I was serenaded to sleep by Les Miz through my complimentary headphones for the second leg of our journey. I had to keep my eyes closed because the person in front of me tilted his seat back so the monitor was in my face and the human mind can only tolerate so much Hugh Jackman, you know?

Anyway, landed on time and in the right continent. The one with all the delicious fruits and animals.

Stayed in a hotel for a night and hurriedly shipped out at 5 in the morning double-fisting croissants (a poor decision since they were all crushed and hard when I ate them). One last time, we had to be accosted by security and declare that we had nothing to declare. I swear, those customs officials could smell the fear coming off me. Or maybe it was the 25 hours of traveling. In either case, they didn’t care.

Lemme tell, you Embrauer 170s are sketchy as shit! This plane had freaking ashtrays and shakes like a patient in benzo withdrawal. But whatever, they gave me two bags of macadamia nuts.

…Alright, five stars. Slow clap.

And then, we were welcomed into… The Compound.

The Compound is safety. The Compound is vital. Mostly because the Compound has Wifi. The Compound provides us our meals and bunk beds to sleep in. Our room of two has a single desk and shelving and space of hanging clothes. The Compound has provided us a mosquito net for which we are thankful and bottled water for our health. There’s also some tall, quirky medical students. And some dogs.

The Compound is our home now.